


Hey Santa! You Missed!

by seibelsays



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Secret Admirer, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seibelsays/pseuds/seibelsays
Summary: The Avengers are a wildly competitive bunch and their Secret Santa gift exchange is no exception. The rules are strict and the penalties for breaking them are rumored to be severe - not that anyone has tried and survived to talk about it. When this year's exchange is announced, Bob hints to Darcy that he's worried - he's drawn the same name every year to disastrous results. Wanting to help ease her friend's mind, Darcy decides to rig the exchange in his favor.But Darcy's not the only one looking to rig the game and when the season is over, everyone will know:Don't mess with Santa.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 368
Kudos: 398
Collections: Warm fuzzies





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I regret nothing.

Darcy swiped through her playlist, barely looking at the keypad as she ran her card through the scanner and entered her code. The beep of the console and the click of the lock barely registered above the music playing in her earbuds, but by now Darcy had the timing of it all down pat - getting into her office was such a strong muscle memory she could get herself through security and into the lab in her sleep. She had once, too, but that was one of Those Incidents that they didn’t talk about outside of the Tower.

She still didn’t think she should have been blamed when Jane ripped holes in time and space, but apparently some people at SHIELD thought it was her job to keep Jane in line or something.

She’d like to see _them_ try to manage this place. They wouldn’t last a day.

With a swipe of her finger, the music in her ears changed from the rock tune specifically engineered to make her mother wonder aloud where she’d gone wrong to a far more seasonally appropriate melody. The bells and piano contrasted a little with the bittersweet lyrics, but it was a catchy tune nonetheless and it made Darcy smile. 

She dropped her bag in the bottom drawer of her desk and kicked it closed as she unlooped the scarf from around her neck. She deposited both the scarf and her fuzzy hat on the coat rack before zipping out of her coat with a small sigh of relief. It might be freezing outside, but by the time she got through security and into the lab she was always overheated.

“It’s Christmas in California,” she sang along under her breath as she turned back to her desk. “And it’s hard to ignore that it feels like summer-AGGGGHHHH!” 

“Well, hello to you too, Lewis.”

She yanked the earbuds out of her ears, the old wires swinging from her fingertips as she tried to get her heart to stop racing. She took a deep breath and tossed her phone and the attached headphones onto the desk. “Barnes,” she greeted. “Don’t sneak up on people.”

He grinned at her. “I knocked.”

“Sure you did,” she muttered, and hoped that if she was blushing, he would assume it was from either the cold or getting overheated on the walk or the scare. Anything besides what it actually was - that he was really fucking gorgeous when he smiled and it was A Problem.

“You need something?” she asked. “Or are you just here to shave a few years off my lifespan?”

His smile faltered a little and Darcy immediately felt like an idiot. Before she could say anything to further embarrass herself - or apologize, it was entirely possible the next words out of her mouth would have been an apology - Bucky’s grin returned, if a little less geniue than before.

“Manifest,” he said.

“Right.” She tapped a few buttons on her computer to wake it up, then pulled up the cargo manifest for the shipment Jane was expecting in the next few days. Bucky would go over it then let the teams know what to look for when it arrived, to prevent anyone bringing anything into the labs that they shouldn’t. Like a Doombot.

Not that that had ever happened. Nope. Not on Darcy’s watch, anyway.

“Email or print?” she asked.

Bucky gave her a look. “What do you think?”

Darcy smiled and hit the print button. “What is it with you and email?” she asked, moving to the printer to pick up the manifest.

“What is it with _you_ and email?” he shot back. “Somethin’ wrong with paper?”

Darcy turned back and smiled sweetly at him and she handed over the pages. “It kills trees.”

Bucky’s expression somehow turned even more unimpressed. “What about all those rare earth minerals in that phone of yours? Ever think about how those ended up there?”

“I thought you _liked_ the future.”

“I _love_ the future,” Bucky replied. “I just hate email.”

Darcy rolled her eyes fondly. “Whatever you say, Barnes.”

His smile returned as he looked down at the manifest in his hands for a moment, then back up at her. The expression softened slightly and his eyes grew serious, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You hear about that party they’re throwing?”

Darcy laughed. “I heard about _all_ the parties they’re throwing. You can’t walk into this building in the month of December without stumbling over one celebration or another.”

Bucky nodded. “I was thinking...maybe -”

“Morning Darcy!’ Bob said as he entered, his hands holding two paper takeaway cups. “I brought you coffee!”

“I love you,” Darcy sighed happily before looking back to Bucky. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Bucky hesitated then gave her a resigned smile and held up the manifest. “I’ll get the team briefed. Hopefully they won’t wreck your stuff this time.”

“Yeah, well hopefully no one tries to slip a Doombot into my boxes this time.” 

“One time!” Bob interjected. 

Darcy threw a half-hearted glare in Bob’s direction before looking back to Bucky. “So I’ll see you later?” She hoped so - she had a feeling there was something more Bucky had wanted to say, but maybe hadn’t wanted an audience. Or not - it was hard to tell with him sometimes.

“Sure,” Bucky said, then nodded at Bob, and left.

Darcy watched him leave, then went back to her desk and picked up one of the coffees Bob had brought. “Mine?” she asked, gesturing at the cup.

“Honey and cream, just the way you like it,” Bob replied. 

That was not even remotely how she took her coffee, but she needed the caffeine and it was a sweet gesture in any case. She smiled in response and took a sip. “Thanks Bob.”

She settled in at her desk, clicking open a few programs to see how her data had complied overnight. A few calculations were still running, so Darcy kicked her feet up onto the desk and opened a game on her phone as she sipped her coffee.

“Oh no,” Bob groaned, sinking into the chair across from her desk.

Darcy looked up from her phone to see Bob staring in dismay at something on his. “What’s up?” she asked.

“Secret Santa,” Bob replied, morosely. 

Darcy stared at him. Bob usually loved the holidays, as far as she knew. Every year that she’d known him, he’d always looked forward to the private party they threw in the Tower and it’s rocus, ridiculous gift exchange. Everyone in the Tower was invited and it was a nice way to blow off a little steam and cut loose before the long slog of stuffy _public_ parties most of the team was obligated to attend. This party was just for them, to have some fun and exchange gifts with their scruffy, mismatched family. Hell, even _Bucky_ was evidently getting into the spirit of things this year, given that he’d just asked her about it, and she’d never known him to attend. Bob’s reaction to the announcement was definitely unexpected.

She set down her phone to pull up her email on her computer, hoping the announcement might provide some clue as to what had Bob so down, since he wasn’t offering up any additional details. It was a bit of a balancing act, leaning back in her desk chair with her feet propped up on the corner of the desk, while navigating her computer with one hand and sipping from the coffee in the other.

It was looking like a slow day in the lab and Darcy liked to take full advantage of those when they happened.

Finally, buried somewhere in the 3,000 or so unread messages piling up in her inbox, she found the email that had Bob so distressed. 

_From: Maria Hill_

_Subject: Gift Exchange Details_

Darcy skimmed the message and almost immediately found the source of Bob’s distress.

“No name swaps _again_ this year?” Darcy said, biting back a laugh. “You’d think they’d have learned to be a little flexible after last year’s...incident.”

“Yeah,” Bob replied, deflating more and more by the minute. “I really thought that Mr. Fury would appreciate a Captain America onesie.”

Darcy kept her thoughts on that one to herself and moved on. “Well, it’s not like you’re likely to draw Fury’s name again this year, right?” she said, trying to cheer him up.

Bob shook his head. “I get his name every year.”

“What? How?” Darcy asked in disbelief. “There’s so many people in the exchange!”

Bob shrugged. “I’ve gotten Fury every year since I started.”

That was odd. Darcy hadn’t been around as long as Bob - she and Jane had only relocated to the main Avengers facility two years ago - but in those two years she had pulled two different names. For Bob to have gotten the same name so many years in a row…

The answer was simple. In a building full of professional liars and spies, someone was rigging the game.

Darcy grinned. “Bob, my man, I think this is going to be your year.” She swung her legs down off the desk and sat up in her chair, still careful not to spill any of her coffee. She took a long sip as she swiped away her email, minimized the data calculations screens, and pulled up the administrative shared drive. After a few minutes of digging, she found the Secret Santa master list and opened it.

It wasn’t even password protected. Trusting fools.

“Jackpot,” she muttered.

“What are you doing?” Bob asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” she replied breezily.

Bob pouted. “Tell me? Please? No one ever tells me anything. I’m pretty sure they even gave me a different orientation manual than everyone else.”

“Plausible deniability, Bob.”

He sighed heavily. Darcy was 86% sure he was exaggerating it, but Bob could be a sensitive guy. She watched him, looking for a sign that he wasn’t actually upset.

And there it was. A small twitch of a smile. Darcy’s grin grew and she turned back to the task at hand. She skimmed through the list, uninterested in most of the names on it - half the fun of the exchange was watching everyone’s guess after all. Finally, she found Bob.

Sure enough, once again he had drawn Fury’s name. It _had_ to be rigged.

Good thing Darcy was there to fix that. She quickly replaced Fury’s name with her own, then did a quick search to find whoever had been assigned her name originally.

She only pouted a little when she realized that Steve Rogers had originally drawn her name. Ah well - he’d easily find something appropriate to gift Fury. She wondered why someone hadn’t thought to assign Fury to Steve earlier. Clearly, the assignments weren’t entirely random if Bob kept getting the same name over and over again.

Unless Steve was the one doing the rigging. 

She thought about that for a moment. Could he be…

Nah.

She saved out the list and then closed it before she could give any more thought to who might be rigging the game and why. Absolutely no good would come from that line of thought. Darcy might be able to hold her own when it came to technology, but she was nowhere near the realm of some of the people she worked with. Unraveling the machiavellian madness that sometimes overshadowed even the simplest games around the Tower was not a job Darcy wanted to sign up for. The one and only time the Avengers had attempted to form a fantasy football league had almost caused an international incident. Darcy knew when she was outclassed and in this instance, she did not want to get involved.

But at least Bob’s fate in this year’s Secret Santa was secure. Her job was complete.

Darcy leaned back in her chair again, swinging her feet up as she shot Bob a grin. “This is going to be a great party this year, Bob. I’ve got a good feeling.”


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy nibbled on her thumbnail as she considered her tablet. The administrative shared drive was _right there_. And inside was the Secret Santa list. Just waiting. Not password protected or hidden under a false name or buried inside myriad other folders and documents, so dull as to throw any interested parties off the scent.

No, it was just...waiting.

It felt a little like a trap. And if Darcy knew this crew, it just might be.

Then again, it was also just as likely to be placed in the open so everyone would _assume_ it was a trap and leave it alone because their fear was stronger than their desire to rig the exchange.

Or maybe it was just that Maria Hill had far better things to do with her time than to worry about anyone hacking the office Secret Santa.

No. Darcy had made her one adjustment for Bob. That was it. She didn’t need to risk changing anything else.

Really. She was good. 

But she _could_ go look at the list. She could see whose name she had been assigned and maybe go hunting for a few clues, giving herself a slight head start in brainstorming a good gift idea. She didn’t think she was that hard to shop for - get her a gift card to the bookstore or yarn shop, or a really nice coffee roast or tea blend, and she was happy. But most other people around here? They were Avengers and were stupidly difficult to shop for.

Maybe other people stressed about it, too. Maybe Clint Barton thought himself easy to shop for because all someone had to do was buy him a pizza and he was happy, but wouldn’t have the slightest idea that Darcy would appreciate a gift card to that coffee shop he’d taken her to when she and Jane moved into the Tower.

Okay, maybe Clint was a bad example. But still, she couldn’t be the only person who thought about this, right?

Or maybe everyone else had far better things to do with their time than worry about what to buy for the office Secret Santa and she would wind up with a bottle of wine. Again.

She tossed her tablet to the side, her noise of frustration accompanied by the _thump_ of the tablet bouncing off the couch cushion. She was overthinking this. It wasn’t a big deal, really. Whatever Bob ended up getting for her would be fine, no matter how off base it might seem at first. Whatever she ended up getting for whatever name she would be assigned would be fine, too. 

It was just...Well, it had been a hell of a year. Was it too much to ask that the holidays be a little forgiving? A little - dare she even think it - joyful?

She dragged herself off the couch and wandered into her kitchen determined to forget the whole thing for at least the night. She opened the advent calendar she’d ordered for herself a few months back and gently pulled open today’s door. Peanut butter hot chocolate. Darcy smiled a little to herself - that sounded absolutely heavenly.

She flipped the packet over to read the directions - would this be better made with hot water or milk? - and her smile dimmed a little.

_Serves 2._

Right. She’d ordered this specific calendar in a moment of hopeful whimsy - that maybe by December, she wouldn’t be spending her movie nights alone. That maybe, by now, there might be someone to snuggle up on the couch with, sipping hot chocolate as they curled together under a blanket to watch that cheesy movie channel that showed nothing but low-budget Christmas movies 24 hours a day. 

She’d certainly had a specific someone in mind when she’d placed the order, but now she was feeling like she’d take what she could get. Her sudden malaise was silly anyway. She didn’t even know if Bucky Barnes _liked_ peanut butter. Or cheesy, low-budget Christmas movies.

A sudden, overwhelming urge to get out of her apartment and not be alone overtook her. She grabbed the hot chocolate packet and snagged her bag of knitting off the couch and swept out of her apartment, making a beeline for the elevator. She rode up to the common room without another thought, hoping at least _someone_ would be around. Even if they didn’t stick around for an entire movie or want to share her hot chocolate, at least she wouldn’t be alone with only her thoughts for company anymore. Or at least for the night. 

Much to her dismay, she arrived to find the common room empty. She sighed and tossed her knitting onto the couch and went into the kitchen to make her hot chocolate.

Serves 2? Challenge accepted.

She set a small pot of milk to warming on the stove as she dug around the cabinets for an appropriate mug, preferably one the size of her head so she could fit all the hot chocolate in one go, then claimed the last of the day’s fresh cookies for her own. She had no idea which of the Tower’s many minions produced those cookies, but she’d been around long enough to know that if you were lucky enough to happen upon one, you snagged it before someone else could.

She grabbed a whisk and gently tipped the packet of hot chocolate mix into the warm and slightly frothy milk. The scent of peanut butter and chocolate filled the air and honestly if that didn’t call at least one person running to the common room, she was going to give up on this group entirely.

“Darcy?”

She glanced up from her treat and smiled at the new arrival. “Hey Buck,” she greeted.

“What’s going on?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

She shrugged. “Just making some hot chocolate before I settled in with a movie. Want to join me?”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“I wouldn’t be up here if I didn’t want company.” At Bucky’s hesitation, she gestured to the pot. “And I’ve got plenty of peanut butter hot chocolate.”

He smiled at that. “Sounds good.”

Darcy felt her smile grow a little bigger at that. “Great. Want to go pick a movie while I finish this up?”

“What were you in the mood to watch?” he asked.

“Surprise me.”

Bucky nodded and went to go set up their movie, while Darcy returned her attention to the stove. She gave the hot chocolate another few stirs with the whisk, then turned off the heat and hunted down two normal-sized mugs, happily returning the oversized one to its place in the upper reaches of the cabinet. She split the hot chocolate between the two mugs and carefully balanced the mugs and plate of cookies to transport it all over to the couch, where Bucky was waiting.

Upon her approach, he quickly got up to relieve her of some of her burden, taking one mug and the plate from her before gesturing at the tv.

“Hope this is okay,” he murmured as they settled in. 

Darcy peered at the tv, not recognizing the movie’s title, but definitely recognizing the little logo in the corner of the screen. “This is that 24-hour Christmas movie channel.”

Bucky shifted a little uncomfortably. “Yeah,” he replied, his tone unsure and just a tiny bit short, almost as though he expected her to laugh or somehow poke fun at his choice. 

Darcy grinned. “It’s like you read my mind. That wasn’t on your list of super-powers. Did you have a run-in with toxic goo recently that you haven’t told me about?”

Bucky visibly relaxed at that, smiling a little as he settled further into the couch. “I like happy stories,” he said. “Low stakes, and everything is alright at the end. It’s just...” his voice trailed off. Darcy liked to think she understood.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Me too.”

They grinned at each other and started the movie. It was as low-budget and cheesy as promised and Darcy was thrilled.

By the end of the movie, her hot chocolate was empty and her cookie nothing but crumbs left on the plate. It was getting a little chilly in the common room - and one glance outside told her why.

“It’s snowing,” she whispered to Bucky.

He looked outside at the swirls of white snow circling outside the window, then back to Darcy. “Makes me glad I live only a few doors down. Can’t imagine wanting to go out in that tonight to get home.”

“Definitely,” she replied, her heart sinking a little at the thought that their evening was coming to a close. Her disappointment must have shown on her face, because Bucky immediately gave her a curious look.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh…” Darcy struggled to come up with a suitable answer but could only shrug in response.

Bucky’s brow furrowed a little, but he didn’t push. Respect for boundaries was a beautiful trait and she kinda loved that about him.

“Want to watch another movie?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied quickly, relieved that the night wasn’t quite over. Even if it wasn’t quite what she’d envisioned, it was still really nice. Even if nothing ever came of the two of them, even if her feelings faded away and they were never anything more than friends, they _were_ friends. And that fact alone made Darcy’s heart happy.

Bucky grabbed the control and tapped in a few commands. “I’ve been told that this particular movie is an absolute holiday must,” he said as the little spinning wheel on the tv indicated it was thinking. 

“Oh? Do tell.” Depending on _who_ had made the suggestion, the movie Bucky was loading could really be anything.

Bucky nodded again. “I’ve also been told that it’s a crime that I’ve never seen it. Will you be my witness that I’ve finally watched it?”

Darcy laughed. “I will absolutely testify on your behalf.”

“Perfect.”

The movie finally loaded and Darcy practically exploded. “A Muppet Family Christmas?!? You’ve never seen it?”

Bucky’s head fell back against the couch. “Not you too! Need I remind everyone that I was frozen for most of 1987?”

Darcy shifted in her seat, swinging her legs under her so she could face Bucky and grab the control from him, ignoring his outburst entirely. “Okay, but is this the full version? Under no circumstances can your first viewing be that hack job that doesn’t have all the scenes.” A few taps onto the control and Darcy frowned. “Ugh. I have to pirate everything myself.” A few more taps, another round of spinning circles, and the same title sequence appeared on the screen, but this time Darcy was much happier. 

“Prepare yourself, Buck,” she said, her tone serious as she settled back into her seat. “Prepare to be blown away by holiday awesome.”

Bucky was staring at her, the fond look in his eyes mixed with something she couldn’t quite place. Bemusement, probably. She was aware she was being ridiculous but didn’t care. She could blame it on the all the sugar, if she really needed to.

“Darcy,” Bucky said, his tone suddenly serious, “do you think that sometime you’d want to-”

“A MUPPET FAMILY CHRISTMAS!?” Clint yelled, before vaulting over the couch and landing between Bucky and Darcy. “And you didn’t invite me?”

“Want to join us, Clint?” Darcy asked, drily.

“DO I.”

Darcy peered around him at Bucky, who had retreated into the corner of the couch. “I don’t know, Buck, what do you think?”

“Sure.”

Darcy tapped Clint with her foot. “Newcomer makes the hot chocolate.”

“I’ve got it,” Bucky said quickly and got up before anyone could protest.

“Is this the full version?” Clint asked. “It _has_ to be the full version.”

Darcy glanced over her shoulder at Bucky, who had an odd look on his face as he dug through the basket on the counter for more hot chocolate mix. Clint continued blabbering on about the movie, the history of the Muppets, and who knows what else as Darcy tried to catch Bucky’s eye. If he wasn’t okay with Clint joining them, she’d figure out a way to kick him out. Which, honestly, wouldn’t be difficult. With Clint, she could turn to him and say, “Hey dude. Not tonight.” and Clint would good-naturedly take a hike. 

She finally caught Bucky’s eye and his somewhat stormy expression calmed. She gave him a smile. After a moment, he gave her one right back, even if it was a little wobbly. 

“Thank you,” she mouthed at him. He nodded, then returned his attention to the hot chocolate.

A few minutes later, he returned, mugs in hand. He passed them out, then gently nudged Darcy. She moved over so Bucky could sit next to her on the couch.

As Clint started the movie, Bucky leaned in to whisper to Darcy.

“For you? Anything.”


	3. Chapter 3

Darcy swiped through her email as she waited in line. She’d decided her order before she even came in - this time of year it was peppermint mocha and nothing but peppermint mocha - so she took the time in line to catch up on her inbox. She swiped again. A few unread emails down, 5,245 to go. She’d get through the lot eventually. Not today, certainly not while standing in line. But eventually.

_Swipe._

Her phone pinged with the arrival of more email, the messages showing up faster than she could delete them. The majority of the notifications were things she could ignore - status monitoring on various equipment, one or two alerts about long-running calculations that she would probably forget to check on, one intern or another clamoring for Jane’s attention. Things like that. The only messages she really cared about were either Jane emailing her updated notes or requests for fine-tuning one algorithm or another, the occasional all caps SOMEONE RIPPED A HOLE IN THE UNIVERSE OH GOD SOMEONE DO SOMETHING false alarm, or Bob checking in to plan lunch. Just about everything else could go straight into the trash most days.

_Ping._

Darcy rubbed her eyes with a sigh as the line slowly advanced. She’d just about resolved to close out of her email to save her sanity and pick a game on her phone to pass the time when the conversation ahead of her caught her attention.

“Okay, but seriously. How do I shop for Steve Rogers?”

“You could make him a compilation video of all those PSAs we had to watch in school.”

“Ohhhh. Is that more of a close friend type gift though? I’m not sure I really rate as a close friend yet.”

Darcy tensed and glanced up, careful to keep her head at such an angle that she could claim she’d been too engrossed in her inbox to overhear this conversation. Because if anyone ever heard that Peter Parker willingly admitted what name he’d gotten in the Secret Santa, there were sure to be consequences. And probably depositions. 

He’d been openly brainstorming gifts. Almost definitely depositions. When Wanda tried that last year, she’d needed to hire a lawyer.

Darcy didn’t want to hire a lawyer just because of something she overheard in the coffee line. Pretending to be reading her email was her best option at this point.

Wait a second.

Darcy reopened the app and refreshed her email once more, even more impatient with her overloaded inbox than usual. If Peter knew who he had in the gift exchange then that meant the list had been released. And if the list had been released, then somewhere in this mess there should be a message that looked something like…

_Ping._

_Subject: D. Lewis, Secret Santa Assignment_

Jackpot. Darcy refrained from doing a happy dance right there in line, but it was a close thing.

She tapped the message, her hand shaking slightly. The message loaded and - 

“Peter,” a voice purred sweetly.

Oooooh boy. Somebody was in trouble.

Darcy glanced up to see Natasha Romanoff standing next to Peter and another tech she didn’t recognize (Ned? Was his name Ned? Darcy was pretty sure Peter was standing with Ned.), her smile all sweetness but the rest of her demeanor terrifying.

“Um...y-yes?” Peter asked, turning slowly to face her.

“Did I hear you correctly just now?” Natasha asked.

“Um…” Peter glanced back at Darcy. As bad as she felt about it, Darcy didn’t dare move a muscle, didn’t even crack the slightest smile to try to reassure Peter. Natasha terrified her sometimes too - especially when it came to enforcing the rules of the Tower Secret Santa. 

No name swaps once the assignments are announced. No discussion of assignments. No hints, no early gifting. Everything had to take place at the party itself. 

And Darcy had rigged the list before it was announced. If Natasha (or anyone else) found out, she was done for. 

Darcy wasn’t entirely sure when or why the rules had gotten so strict, but she did know that most gift exchanges weren’t quite this stressful. Just another symptom of the Avengers super-competitiveness, she supposed. Maybe a twisted result of half the building spending their lives working shrouded in secrecy. It wasn’t like they could turn any of that training off. 

Or maybe Maria Hill just liked fucking with everyone.

Nat seemed to take an especially odd sort of glee in enforcing the rules of the exchange, that was all. Every year she volunteered to police the participants, making sure that everyone followed the rules to the letter. Every year, she found at least one person who broke the rules. 

Darcy wondered, very _very_ quietly inside of her brain, just in case Nat had a superpower or two she’d never told anyone about, if Nat volunteered to enforce the rules because she was the one rigging the list.

As the thought crossed Darcy’s mind, Natasha turned her gaze on Darcy. Darcy did her best not to show any fear. 

Based on the way Nat’s smile grew, she was pretty sure she failed at that.

Telepathy. It had to be. 

Darcy received a tiny reprieve though, when without comment, Natasha returned her attention to the still sputtering Peter. She slipped an arm through his and casually - but forcefully - guided him away. “Come on, kid,” Nat said. “Let’s catch up.”

Darcy watched Natasha lead the poor guy away, Ned following dutifly behind them and only released her breath once they were safely out of sight.

_Ping._

Right! Email! Secret Santa! 

All thoughts of Natasha fled as Darcy looked back at her phone and opened her email app once more so she could finally find out who her Secret Santa assignment was this year.

“What was that about?” 

Darcy spun around to find Bucky and Clint in line behind her. Just how long had they been lurking there?

“Oh you know, the usual,” Darcy replied, relocking her phone and dropping it into her pocket. 

“Nat has way too much fun scaring people,” Clint grinned. 

Darcy shrugged. “Everyone needs a hobby.” She looked at the two, taking in their appearance: tac gear, go bags in hand. Even if she hadn’t seen them both the night before, she knew they were on their way out to a call instead of returning from one because they weren’t covered in mysterious grime or carrying an air of exhaustion. “Heading out?” she asked.

“Just as soon as we hydrate,” Clint said. “I asked this guy to get me chocolate milk.”

Bucky looked like he had a litany of replies, but refrained from expressing them. “I brought you water,” he said, simply.

“It’s not really the same thing, is it?”

“Chocolate milk, though?” Darcy asked, cutting off whatever reply Bucky would have made. He looked like he was gearing up for an argument, one Darcy had heard countless times before. She wondered if Clint did it intentionally, to psych Bucky up for whatever it was they were getting called out to do, or if that was just their relationship.

It was a toss up. Clint was an enigma when he wanted to be.

“Muscle recovery!” Clint crowed, in response to Darcy’s question.

“...Wouldn’t that be more effective _after_ you exert yourself?”

“Thank you,” Bucky replied.

“No one here is any fun at all,” Cilnt grumbled. “Chocolate milk is delightful any time.”

Darcy rolled her eyes with a fond smile. “Sure thing, Clint. Feel free to jump me here in line. I’m sure you boys are on a timeline.”

Clint moved ahead of her with a grateful smile and greeted the barista to begin placing his order, but Bucky stayed put. “Wheels up in an hour,” he said, his voice growing soft. “As soon as we’re done here, we head for the hangar.”

Darcy gave him a once over. “Based on the all-white tac gear, is it safe to say you’ll be going somewhere...snowy?”

Bucky considered her for a moment, then made a noncommittal gesture. “Maybe.”

Darcy wasn’t so easily deterred and leaned in to whisper to him conspiratorially. “Are you going to the North Pole?”

Bucky’s expression remained neutral and he didn’t reply.

“Yo Barnes, what do you want?” Clint called.

“Two peppermint mochas, biggest they’ve got,” Bucky replied, not looking away from Darcy.

“Whoa, that’s too much caffeine, even for me,” Clint said.

Bucky’s expression finally broke as he rolled his eyes at Clint. “One’s for Darcy.”

“Oh! Well that makes much more sense.”

Darcy grinned. “You know my coffee order.”

Bucky shrugged. 

A warm feeling crept through Darcy. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Clint appeared then, coffee in hand. He passed off matching cups to Bucky and Darcy, then turned back to grab his own order. “Meet you in the hangar,” he said to Bucky, then gave a parting nod to Darcy.

“Be careful!” she said.

Clint grinned, then turned to go. “What could go wrong?” he called over his shoulder.

“Well, that’s not jinxing it or anything,” Darcy muttered. “How about you? You want to tempt fate?”

Bucky took a sip of his coffee, then shook his head. “No, I think I’ve had my fill of all that.”

“Good.” Darcy took a sip of her coffee and let out a little happy hum. The peppermint mocha here really was perfection. “Well, I won’t tell _you_ to be careful because I know you always are careful so…” She hesitated briefly, then tugged him down to her level so she could give him a kiss on the cheek. “Do good.”

Bucky stood frozen in place for the briefest of moments before meeting her eyes. “If I’m back in time, would you want to watch the tree lighting on tv?”

A thrill raced through Darcy at the question and she struggled to get her feelings under control. “Is _A Muppet Family Christmas_ the world’s greatest Christmas movie?” she teased.

Bucky’s expression became slightly alarmed. “I feel like a case could be made for _A Muppet Christmas Carol._ ”

Darcy laughed. “Good answer. Well, _my_ answer is yes. You get back here from rescuing Santa, and we’ll watch.”

Bucky grinned. “I never said I was rescuing Santa.”

“Well you’re certainly not kidnapping him, not this time of year, you’d end up on the wrong side of Santa’s list for sure.” Darcy gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Bucky repeated. Then he turned and followed Clint towards the hangar. Darcy watched him go, then took another sip of her coffee, savoring it. She checked the time, email and gift exchanges forgotten for now.

Only 7 hours until the tree lighting. This was going to be the longest day of work ever.


	4. Chapter 4

Darcy’s email pinged, the small chime somehow making its way to Darcy over the noise of the machine she was currently stuck under. She held the screwdriver between her teeth as she reaffixed the duct tape back in place. That should hold until she could get Bucky in here to help her tip the whole thing over so she could get at it with the welder. 

If Bucky ever made it back.

She pushed the traitorus thought out of her mind. Just because he was a few days late didn’t mean anything. Missions ran long all the time. Bucky was fine.

He was fine.

She took the screwdriver in her hand and turned her head to the side, determined to distract herself.

“Try it now!” she yelled in Jane’s general direction.

“You _might_ want to get out from under there first,” Jane replied.

“Good call.” Darcy scrambled out from under the machine, just barely clearing it before Jane threw the switch. A small explosion of sparks and a puff of smoke later, and the banging and whirring noises silenced entirely, leaving the lab eerily quiet.

“So much for that,” Jane sighed.

“You’ll get ‘em next time,” Darcy reassured.

“For all I know, the next time could be a thousand years from now.”

“Well, maybe your Secret Santa will bring you one of those Asgardian golden apples of immortality or something.”

Jane grinned. “But what fun would immortality be without you?”

“Oh we’re 100% splitting that thing,” Darcy replied. “You don’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Darcy smiled, relieved that Jane wasn’t taking the broken tech or lost opportunity too hard for now. She’d keep an eye on her, for sure, but she really had gotten better about these things in the last few years. No more crazy late nights or 4 day long science benders and Darcy couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to remind Jane to eat. Life in the Tower, living and working surrounded by people who not only appreciated Jane’s brilliance but complemented it, had done wonders for her. For them both, really. 

Darcy headed back to her desk. Maybe after she checked her email, she’d drag Jane away from the lab for some fresh air. They were due for a coffee break anyway.

“Uggggghhhhhhhh,” Jane groaned.

“What is it?” Darcy asked, as she woke her computer up and skimmed her email.

“Secret Santa,” Jane replied. 

“Why is everyone so down on the gift exchange this year?” Darcy asked. 

“Did you see what name you got?” Jane asked. “Because that's why I’m groaning.”

Darcy paused, thinking about it. “Didn’t they send out the assignments a few days ago?” she asked slowly.

“I’m just getting to it now,” Jane replied, distracted by her own inbox.

Darcy quickly skimmed through messages, probably skipping over other, probably more pressing emails, to finally locate the one she was looking for.

_Subject: D. Lewis, Secret Santa Assignment_

She glanced at Jane to make sure her friend was still distracted before she opened the email. After her encounter with Clint and Bucky at the coffee shop, and then Bucky not making it back in time for the tree lighting, Darcy had completely forgotten about the gift exchange. After all her fretting and anxiety over whether or not to further rig the game, she had forgotten all about it the minute Bucky was in potential peril.

There was probably something to that, if she thought about it. She wasn’t going to - not right now anyway.

She clicked open the email. Her stomach lurched as her heart sank. All of her insides were in the wrong place and it was this stupid gift exchange’s fault.

_Bucky Barnes_

“Uggggghhhhhhhh,” Darcy groaned, echoing Jane’s earlier sentiments.

“See what I mean?” Jane replied.

“This is going to be tough,” Darcy said, as the weight of her predicament sank in. “I have no idea what to get this person.” Well. She could wrap herself in a bow and throw herself at him. She maybe sort of was getting the feeling that he might return her feelings, so she didn’t think the gesture would be entirely unwelcome, but this was a _work_ function. A tiny modicum of propriety should be maintained, when possible.

“Same here,” Jane said. She stewed on that thought for a minute as she glowered at her computer screen. “We...could help each other?” Jane offered tentatively. 

Darcy gave Jane a skeptical look. “That’s against the rules,” she said. “You don’t want to break the rules.”

“When did I say that?”

“Last year. You said you wanted to honor these rules. That we should try to shed our fanciful ways and learn to get along in society, like civilized women.”

“That was last year,” Jane protested. “Last year, I had a _sane_ pick assignment in the gift exchange. This year, civilization is overrated.”

“I _begged_ you last year for help!” Darcy exclaimed, half laughing because she couldn’t ever have any kind of argument with Jane these days without laughing.

“Natasha is actually really easy to shop for, I still can’t believe you had trouble.”

“Natasha would be easy to shop for _now_ ,” Darcy argued. “I didn’t know that then. And I asked you for help two years ago too and you wouldn't do it.”

“You did fine. Peter loved what you got him!”

Darcy leaned back in her chair, a small sound of pride escaping her. “And I only had to hack his email to do it.”

“Well, I have an actual challenge this year,” Jane said. “So now it’s me asking you for help. I promise, I’ll help you too. Just tell me who you have and we’ll bounce some ideas around.”

The name was on the tip of Darcy’s tongue. She was about to tell Jane when a thought occurred to her. She narrowed her eyes at her friend. “How much of a bounty did Natasha offer this year for anyone who spills the beans on who they have?”

“Damn, almost had you!” Jane muttered.

“Jane!” Darcy yelled.

“Darcy!” Jane shot back.

“Ugh. How much, traitor? How much is it worth to you?”

“$5,000.”

“WHAT!” Darcy exclaimed. 

“Think of the _upgrades_ we could make around here with that!” Jane whined. “Just. You know. Tell me who you have!”

“What is wrong with these people,” Darcy muttered. “Who has $5,000 just sitting around to offer up like that?” She glared at Jane. “And maybe _you_ should tell _me_ who _you_ have, and I’ll collect the bounty!”

“I got Loki.” 

“AGGGHH!” Darcy yelled, throwing her hands over her ears. “I didn’t actually want to know!”

“Well, now you do.” Jane’s smirk was triumphant and so absurdly smug. “So you can collect the bounty _and_ help me figure out what to get him.”

“I got played,” Darcy whined. “You played me. My own best friend.” She shook her fist mockingly towards the sky. “Is nothing sacred!”

“I ask myself that all the time,” Bucky said, leaning against the doorframe at the entrance to the lab.

Relief rushed through her at the sound of his voice. He was back. Home, safe and sound. “Bucky!” Darcy greeted, then gestured at Jane. “She’s a madwoman! Remind me why I hang out with her.”

“It’s one of the universe’s great mysteries,” Bucky replied, as he pushed himself off the doorframe to stand up straight and enter the lab. “I was wondering if you were looking for a coffee break.”

“You know me so well,” Darcy grinned.

Bucky grinned back. “Jane?”

Jane shook her head. “No, no. You two go ahead.”

Darcy frowned at her. Jane never turned down coffee. “You want me to bring you anything back?”

“Sure. Surprise me.”

Bucky gestured at the door. “After you,” he murmured to Darcy.

She looped an arm through his and pulled him along. “So,” she began, suddenly a little unsure. She had a list of things she wanted to talk to him about and didn’t know where to start. “How’d the mission go? You were gone longer than you thought.”

Bucky’s expression suggested he was suppressing a groan. “Clint got us blown off a building.”

“Bucky!” Darcy scolded. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t I look okay?”

Darcy stopped, their linked arms pulling Bucky to a stop too. She gave him a good look, scrutinizing him. He waited patiently. 

“You’re good at hiding it when you’re not okay,” she replied.

Bucky’s eyes went soft and he gently tugged on her arm, getting them walking again. “I’m fine this time.”

“Promise?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Bucky replied seriously. “Ever.”

Darcy’s heart skipped a few beats at his promise and she leaned into his side. “I might hold you to that.”

He tightened his grip on her arm and covered her hand with his. “I hope you do.”

They smiled at each other, then Bucky finally looked away and the moment was broken, the strange tension between them easing into their customary familiarity.

He cleared his throat. “How was the tree lighting? Was the host drunk again this year?”

“No idea,” Darcy replied. 

Bucky stiffened slightly and Darcy could feel the plates of his arm shifting through both of their sweaters. “Somethin’ happen?”

“No,” Darcy said. “I recorded it, so we could watch when you got back.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Darcy parroted with a teasing smile. She nudged his arm with her shoulder, and kept nudging him until the strange expression on his face broke into a slow smile. “There we go.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky gently pulled his arm from Darcy as they entered the lobby coffee shop, his fingertips just barely brushing the small of her back as he guided her inside.

Darcy stayed close as they joined the line. She thought about her dilemma. She wanted her gift to Bucky to be personal, to mean something, but not be so over the top as to be inappropriate - for either their current relationship status (which was feeling murkier by the minute) or for the public venue in which the gift would ultimately be given. She didn’t have the slightest clue where to start.

“Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?”

She chewed on her lip, debating how to phrase the question. “If you could ask the universe for anything, absolutely anything at all, what would you ask for?”

If _he_ were anyone else, maybe he would have scoffed at the question or laughed it off as too serious for a coffee break. If _she_ were anyone else, maybe he would have been wary that the question was too personal, digging for details that he wasn’t willing to explore. But he was Bucky and she was Darcy and they were them, so he simply considered the question quietly for a moment, then replied.

“You’re gonna laugh,” he warned, “but I’d say probably my mom’s fruitcake.”

Darcy smiled, delighted by the unexpected answer, but very carefully made sure she did not laugh. “Fruitcake?”

Bucky shrugged. “Anything she baked, really. She...well, it was something special.”

“What was special about it?”

“It wasn’t a special recipe or anything like that. It was more - well, it’s not like fruitcake was an everyday occurance. So what I do remember about it is the times we had it.”

“I think I understand what you mean.” Darcy felt the same about her aunt’s caramel blossom cookies. They were delicious, sure. But she only made them in December, and didn’t make them at all once she got sick. It had been years since Darcy had tasted one and would probably give anything to taste one again, given the chance.

Bucky gave her a small, genuine smile, one that hardened into a polite mask as they stepped forward to place their order with the barista.

“The usual?” he asked.

“Is it still December?”

“Two peppermint mochas, please.”

They stepped to the side to wait for their order. Bucky shifted slightly.

“Thanks for not laughing,” he said.

Darcy frowned. “Why would I laugh?”

“I’m sure that wasn’t the answer you were looking for, is all.”

“It’s your honest answer, isn’t it?” Darcy asked. Bucky nodded. “Then it’s a great answer.”

And it was. Not only because it was Bucky sharing something with her - a small, intimate part of himself that she was pretty sure was locked down pretty tightly most of the time. It was an extension of trust, a signal that Bucky valued her and knew that she wouldn’t abuse that trust.

It also gave Darcy an idea - and now she knew exactly what gift to give her Secret Santa.


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy wobbled a little on her feet, once again regretting the sky-high heels she’d picked for this party. Well, not for _this_ party, exactly. She looked down at her glass mournfully, fully aware that if she had anything beyond this one glass of champagne, she’d probably fall and break her face - or at least her ankle.

It was silly really - tonight was just the Tower holiday party. No big deal. Just some good food, good company, and a gift exchange. Most years she prided herself on finding the most outrageous sweater she could find and pairing it with a Santa hat or reindeer antlers. But this year, she just wanted something a little different. So instead of comfortable shoes and an outlandish outfit, she was dressed up in heels and a respectable sweater dress. 

The _big_ party was tomorrow night, when the upper floors and ballrooms would be filled with pretty and important people, all hoping for the right introduction or photo op would get them whatever it was they were there to get. That’s the party Darcy’s towering heels were for. Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t had a chance to break them in just yet, so she’d worn them tonight and added a back-up box of band-aids to her grocery order to deal with the inevitable blisters.

Clint walked by, doing a double take as he passed, and Darcy tried her best to hide behind her champagne flute. Maybe she wanted to look nice, okay? And if she looked nice while having a conversation with a certain Secret Santa gift recipient, possibly under some mistletoe? Well. That would just be serendipity, wouldn’t it?

She glared at her glass. Who was she kidding? She didn’t know what she was doing, if she were honest, and she had no idea if it would be worth it. She might be ready to give this...whatever that was going on with Bucky a shot, if he was. That was the tricky part.

She looked around, watching the crowd, and finally spotted Bob as he put his gift for the Secret Santa on the table. He smiled at her and waved, then disappeared into the crowd. Jane had wandered off ages ago and she hadn’t really felt like finding a conversation just yet. She hung around the edge of the room and waited. 

Tonight’s party was just for them - Avengers friends and family. Despite her current desire to stay on the outskirts of the party, these really were her people. Something Darcy had never quite imagined she would be a part of and yet couldn’t imagine her life anywhere else. So the music was loud and cheesy, the laugher echoed through the room, and sooner rather than later someone would get the bright idea to spin up some karaoke. 

That someone might be her, depending on how badly she needed to distract herself from her aching feet in another hour or so.

“Alright team, listen up!” Steve yelled over the music. Darcy heard a few long-suffering groans and some good-natured heckling, but the volume on the stereo was lowered appropriately so everyone could hear him. “Now. I know no one wants to hear a speech-”

“PRESENTS!” Clint yelled.

“-so I’m not going to make one. I’m just going to say - thanks everyone for a great year. I know that it was tough at times, but I couldn’t ask for a better team. So friends - family - thank you.” The rowdy atmosphere softened slightly at Steve’s words, most everyone touched by the sentiment. 

“YOU’RE WELCOME!” Clint yelled and the moment was broken.

Steve laughed. “And with that, we’ll start the gift exchange!” Steve moved to a table overflowing with gifts and picked one up. “First gift is for....” Steve paused to read the tag. “Natasha!”

Darcy grinned. The best part of the gift exchange wasn’t receiving a gift. It certainly wasn’t anything cheesy like _giving_ a gift. No, the best part of the Avengers Secret Santa was watching all these fools try to one-up each other as they guessed what gift they received and who it was from.

Natasha took the gift from Steve and weighed the box in her hands. “Throwing stars. Thanks Sam!”

“What in the actual - I don’t even know why I bother!” Sam grumbled.

Natasha’s smile was indulgent. “Wrapping them in a scarf to throw me off was a nice try.”

“Cheater!” Clint yelled from somewhere in the back.

Natasha grabbed a gift off the table, read the tag, then tossed it at Clint. “Like you can do better.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at their antics. It was the same story every year, each Avenger attempting to one-up the others. There was a reason they didn’t do the exchange at the “official” party. The press would have a field day. No one would ever trust these people to save the world ever again, if they saw them like this.

And so the exchange went on, the group getting rowdier and more boisterous with every gift opened. Even Steve, normally content to observe the ruckus from the side, joined in this year, giving the gift box an exaggerated sniff before declaring that Bruce had gotten him art supplies.

With only a few gifts left on the table, Bruce picked one and read the tag. “Nick!” He handed the box to him then slipped away, back towards the back of the room and out of the crowd. Fury glowered as the room fell quiet. He shook the box a little, but didn’t make a guess as to what might be inside before ripping into the paper. When he finally got the box open, he looked stoically out at the crowd.

“Thank you, Bob.”

“Sure thing!” Bob yelped from somewhere near the bar.

Wait.

Darcy gaped at Bob for a moment, then hurried over to him, pushing through the crowd and almost tripping over her stupid high heels in the process. 

“Bob!” she whispered. 

“Darcy!” Bob greeted cheerfully, his face a little red after all the spiked egg nog. 

“You didn’t have Fury in the exchange this year,” she said.

“Oh, I did though! Funny isn’t it, how I keep getting him every year? It’s great though, he’s easy to shop for. After a certain amount of alcohol is consumed, you just go to the first website you have bookmarked and buy the first thing that you put in your cart.”

“Yeah, sure Captain America adult onesies are awesome, I have one too,” Darcy said, ignoring Steve’s jolt of surprise beside her. Honestly, if he expected anything different of her at this point, he clearly hadn’t been paying attention. “But you didn’t have Fury’s name.”

Bob blinked at her. “Yes I did. Are you feeling okay? The Captain America onesie was last year. This year, I got him a Black Widow onesie.”

Darcy studied him, looking for any sign of confusion or amusement. But no - he was telling her the truth.

But if Bob didn’t have Darcy’s name, who did?

Darcy glanced at the gift table, down to the last few boxes, and kicked herself for not paying closer attention to who had already given gifts. 

She sighed. Clearly, someone had rigged the game after Darcy had rigged the game and now it was coming back to bite her. She would have to get up there and actually _guess_ , without the benefit of cheating or even having paid attention to the rest of the game. She had mostly played by the rules like an absolute _sucker_ and was going to pay for it.

“And the last gift!” boomed Thor. Darcy sighed. It figured. Last gift - the one that should be the easiest to guess because everyone else would have already gone. She steeled herself for the embarrassment and teasing and just hoped she didn’t fall flat on her face on top of everything else. And to top it all off, she hadn’t even seen Bucky or his reaction to her gift at all. This night was the worst. Stupid high heels.

“Maria Hill!” Thor continued.

The world lurched to a stop as Maria went to the table to take the gift from Thor. She held up the box with a good-natured smile and tugged at the wrapping. Darcy turned away from the crowd and wandered back behind the bar, her mind racing. 

“Hey Darcy,” Natasha said. “Having a good time?”

“That bastard forgot me!” Darcy snapped, not entirely registering Natasha’s question.

“Pardon?” Natasha asked.

Darcy shook her head and forced herself to focus. “Sorry. Just - I got stiffed by my Secret Santa.”

“Kinky,” Natasha grinned.

Darcy grinned back, despite herself. “They didn’t bring me a gift, Nat.”

She frowned. “Rude. Who was it?”

Darcy shrugged. “That’s just the thing. I don’t know.”

Natasha gave her a skeptical look and Darcy held up her hands in surrender. “Honest! I’ll admit, I _had_ rigged it so that Bob would get my name this year for a change, but he ended up with Fury again. I figured I already knew who had my name, so I didn’t pay attention to who everyone else had.”

Natasha’s frown deepened.

“...I’m not going to get put in Secret Santa jail for telling you that, am I?” Darcy said, the look on Natasha’s face a little unnerving. “Please don’t put me in Secret Santa jail, this night already sucks enough.” 

Natasha blinked and her entire demeanor changed as she smiled. “Game’s over. I’m not on duty again until next year.”

“Okay. Good.” Darcy fidgeted with the bottle opener on the bar in front of her. “Is it...it’s weird to be disappointed, right? It’s just a stupid office gift exchange.”

“It’s not weird,” Natasha reassured her. “Let’s get you a drink and then we’ll start up some karaoke, yeah? Forget the whole thing?”

Darcy hesitated, then shook her head. “I think I’m just going to go. These shoes are killing me anyway, and future me will thank me for the lack of hangover tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure,” Natasha said.

“I’m sure. If you see Jane, will you tell her I’ve gone to bed?”

“Absolutely.”

Darcy smiled, feeling more relieved already. Maybe the faster she got out of here, the faster she’d shake the strange funk the gift exchange put her in. She moved as quickly as her stupid shoes would allow and made her way to the door.

Steve watched Darcy go, then turned to Natasha. “I thought you said you’d rigged the game.”

Natasha turned her steely gaze on him and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Steve sighed, then took a long pull from his beer, finishing the bottle before dropping it into the recycling. “Now what?”

Natasha grabbed another beer for herself and Steve. “For now, we start karaoke.”

“And later?”

“That’s up to Santa.”


	6. Chapter 6

Darcy slowly blinked, attempting to clear the sleep from her eyes as she watched the coffee brew. She hadn’t gotten much sleep and was certainly paying for it now. When she’d gotten home from the party, she had decided a little pampering was in order. She’d drawn herself a nice hot bath, brewed a cup of The Really Good Tea, and treated herself to that new book she’d been eyeing, all in an effort to drag herself out of the funk the Secret Santa debacle had put her in. It had worked a little bit at first, but of course as soon as she’d settled in, the tears started and hadn’t stopped. Maybe staying at the party and nursing a hangover today would have been a better option.

It wasn’t even that she was all that upset, really. In the cold morning light, the whole thing just wasn’t that big of a deal. But last night, that knowledge wasn’t any comfort - and when she thought about how inconsequential the whole thing was, it had only made her cry harder. So, when the water had gone finally cold, she dragged herself to bed, where she cried herself into a fitful sleep.

So now she was tired _and_ sort of embarrassed, even if there had been no one there to witness her breakdown. It was her little secret, if she wanted it to be. 

“Your feelings are valid because you feel them,” she muttered at the coffee pot. “They don’t have to make sense.”

She didn’t know if she believed it, but just saying it made her feel a little better. She wondered if Jane would notice if she just kept muttering it all day long.

She drummed her fingers on the counter, willing the coffee to speed up. She was going to need caffeine injected directly into her veins if she was going to get through today. Maybe she should have just run into the lobby coffee shop instead of waiting for the coffee pot to brew. 

“Morning.”

Or maybe she just needed a visit with Bucky. The tiny jolt of adrenaline that raced through her at the sound of his voice was enough to make her heart race.

Forget coffee. One Bucky Barnes smile this early in the morning could wake a girl up plenty.

“Hey,” she said, trying for cheerful as she pushed her mauldin thoughts to the side.

He paused a few steps away, looking from her to the coffee point, rather pointedly. She paused at the look, his smile oddly seeming just slightly brittle. The thought had barely time to form before - 

“Rough night?” he asked.

“Something like that,” she replied. “How about you? Have fun last night?”

He gave her a strange look. “It was a riot.”

Darcy forced a smile. “Explosive personalities do that,” she joked. It felt flat and forced, even to her, so when Bucky’s only response was to further furrow his brow at her, she quickly attempted to change the subject. “Coffee?” 

He nodded and reached into the cabinet to gather mugs for them. 

Darcy tilted her head back and scowled at the ceiling for a moment while Bucky’s back was turned, then quickly schooled her expression into something more neutral. 

_Get it together, Lewis._

What she _wanted_ to do was ask him about her gift - did he like it at all? But she couldn’t think of a graceful way to do that without admitting that she’d completely missed him opening it. 

_“So, Buck, tell me how great I did shopping for you, since clearly the thank you from the stage wasn’t enough for my ego.”_

Yeah. Right.

And while it was _Bucky_ \- he was highly unlikely to judge, if she told him the whole story - she still couldn’t quite stomach the idea of outright asking. She wanted him to bring it up, to want to talk to her about it. 

She was stubborn and an idiot, but she already knew that. If she weren’t, she would either have gotten past these pesky feelings for Bucky or already be happily dating him. Since neither of those things were true, she was stuck.

He set the mugs on the counter, then grabbed the cream from the refrigerator. He tipped the container to pour a generous amount into each mug, which Darcy then topped off with coffee.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I’ll walk you to the lab?”

“Sure.”

They walked in uncharacteristic silence. Darcy could feel Bucky glancing at her every few steps and she willed the flush in her cheeks to go away. Her foul mood over her Secret Santa and the party in general combined with her desire for Bucky to just talk about _his_ Secret Santa left her tongue tied. She wondered if the silence was a sign she’d been carrying the bulk of their conversations up to this point. Did that mean that he wasn’t as interested in her? Or worse - had her feelings become obvious and he had been humoring her all this time?

She was overthinking it.

She glanced at him, meeting his eyes, which were filled with concern. He slowed to a stop, a gentle hand at her elbow asking her to stop with him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft. 

She sighed. She was getting herself worked up over absolutely nothing and now she’d gone and made him worry for her. Guilt lapped at her and she forced a smile. He met it hesitantly, and she could feel the sharp edges of her own expression soften in response.

This was _Bucky_ for crying out loud. It was fine. Everything was fine.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks though.” 

“Can I help?”

Her smile grew, feeling more genuine now as her heart sang for him. “You already have.”

His face did that funny thing where his smile grew as his eyes went soft and he huffed out a short, sharp breath like he was surprised. She loved that funny thing. “Darce, I was wonderin’ if maybe -”

“Darcy! Santa! Details!” Jane yelled from inside the lab.

“Just a second!” Darcy called back. “Sorry, go on.”

Bucky’s expression shuttered again and he shook his head, his smile far more guarded now.

“No really. I feel like you’ve been trying to ask me something for weeks and we keep getting interrupted,” Darcy insisted. “You’re more important than that, I want to answer whatever the question is.”

Bucky opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut again with a shake of his head. “Tonight? Maybe? Could we talk tonight?”

“Whatever you want, Buck.”

He nodded. “I should let you get to it.”

A light bulb went off in Darcy’s head. Jane wanted to talk Secret Santa. If _Jane_ brought up Secret Santa, Bucky would have to talk about his gift, right?

“Nah, come on in, stay awhile. We’re not going to get started for a bit yet. Gotta let the good ‘ol caffeine perkolate, you know?”

“Can’t science uncaffeinated,” Bucky said, sagely. 

“I’ve taught you well.” Darcy led him into the lab. “Janey! Santa! Details!” she called out to Jane.

“Disappointing!” Jane pouted. “Every year, I end up with the same gift.”

“Flannel?” Darcy replied with a sympathetic nod, knowing full well that wasn’t the answer.

“I wish!” Jane replied. “Ugh. What about you?” Jane waggled her eyebrows. “I noticed you left early last night. How’d your Secret Santa treat you?”

Bucky froze at the comment and Darcy felt the urge to smack her forehead. This was not the direction she’d hoped this would go. “Oh uh…” Bucky and Jane both looked at her expectantly and she sighed. Honesty it was then. “My Secret Santa...forgot me,” she said slowly.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to her, his expression startled. He looked like he wanted to say something when Jane spoke up.

“WHAT?!” Jane yelled. “How did they _forget_?”

“Jane, let’s not make this a thing -”

“It’s only the only thing anyone in the science department has been able to talk about for how long now? I can’t even get anyone to focus on the latest readings, and I really think we might be onto something there.”

“Yes, we are,” Darcy nodded. “We should go do that, in fact. Do the science.” She turned to Bucky. “Do you want to help do the science?”

He glanced between Jane and Darcy. “I think you two have things in hand for now. Yell, if you need to move something heavy.”

Jane scowled at him. “You’re worth more than that around here, you know. Anytime you want to stop the superhero thing and join Team Science, you know where to find us.”

“I know,” Bucky replied. “I’m going to try the superhero thing for a little while longer, if that’s okay.”

“Whatever you want, Buck,” Darcy said.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He looked to Darcy. “Text me when you’re done?”

At Darcy’s nod, Bucky turned and left the lab.

Jane sank into her chair. “Okay but seriously. Which idiot Avenger forgot about Secret Santa?”

* * *

Darcy tossed her keys into the basket by the door and kicked her shoes onto the mat as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She shot Bucky a quick message to let him know she was home. Maybe they could order in some Thai or something and watch one of those cheesy holiday specials that seemed to be on every day. Her phone buzzed with a message and she swiped at it.

_Something came up. Sorry._

Darcy waited for a few moments, expecting - hoping - for another message. Something maybe not quite so short. 

When nothing else came, she sighed and tucked her phone back in her pocket. She sank into the cushions on her couch and turned the tv on, searching the channels for any news of an Avengers callout. Shopping report, best toys report, little kids writing to Santa feel-good story. There had been a small ruckus in Madripoor, but that was days ago - no, nothing on the news as to what Bucky was up to. It could be something that hadn’t made the news yet or even something mundane and not Avengers related at all. 

She dug her phone out again and tapped in an order for tacos and ice cream for delivery, then went back to flipping through the channels, looking for something to cheer her up. Someone had to be showing Elf right now, right? 

Ugh, maybe not Elf. It might be infinitely quotable, but it wasn’t actually a movie she enjoyed. Her phone buzzed again and she swiped at it.

_Raincheck?_

She stared at the message, torn between relief and longing and the bitterness from the night before she still hadn’t quite shaken. It was too much to feel at one time.

_Of course._

She tossed her phone onto the side table and settled back into the cushions as she pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and tugged it around her. “Hey JARVIS? Play the movie _White Christmas._ ”

Maybe watching Rosemary Clooney sort through her mess would help Darcy deal with her own.


	7. Chapter 7

Darcy entered the lab, rubbing at the knot in her neck and lamenting the sore, stiff feeling she had going pretty much all over. She was how old now? She should know better than to fall asleep on the couch.

“Janey, can we just take the day?” she whined as she walked in. “I’m not up to doing the science today.”

No response. No banging or clanging or whirring or purring. No smoke or fires. Not even any creative cursing. The lab was empty. 

Figures.

Darcy sighed and went to hang her coat on the rack. Maybe some hot chocolate from the kitchenette would help.

She turned to her desk to put her bag away in the drawer and stopped halfway. Sitting right next to her keyboard, on top of her Captain America mousepad, was a coffee cup and a little bag from the cafe’s bakery.

Darcy looked around. Still no Jane. She blinked really hard to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating random acts of caffenation, then reached out and gingerly touched the cup. Still warm - the beverage inside was likely piping hot. 

So _someone_ had just left this here. But who? And why? And why hadn’t they stuck around?

She took off the lid and gave the cup a quick sniff. It smelled _heavenly_ \- coconut and chocolate. It wasn’t her usual coffee this time of year, but damn did it smell like something she should add into her regular rotation. A peek in the bag revealed a chocolate chip scone. Her favorite. Darcy almost wanted to cry. After a long few days, this simple thing was the sweetest gesture she could think of.

But who was it from?

Jane seemed the most likely, most obvious culprit. She’d been so angry on Darcy’s behalf about the whole Secret Santa thing, and she had easy access to the lab. But this wasn’t exactly Jane’s style. If Jane were going to do something to try to cheer Darcy up, she wouldn’t sneak around like this - she would outright tell Darcy they were going out from breakfast or taking a day off to watch _The Clone Wars_ and eat junk food.

She supposed it could be Bob - he had easy enough access to the labs and he did have a habit of bringing her coffee. But this was a little closer to her actual taste than what Bob usually bought for her, and he never had brought baked goods before. Besides, Bob would have stayed for a chat, always ready to catch up on the office gossip - even when that gossip was less personal scandal and more academic pettiness. No, this little gift wasn’t likely to be from Bob.

Maybe it was one of the interns, trying to suck up a little?

The heavenly scent of the coffee wafted to Darcy again and she pouted. It wasn’t a smart idea to accept food and drinks from unknown sources around here - she was Avenger-adjacent after all and weird things happened to the Avenger-adjacent. Darcy had once even made the argument that weirder things happened to those around the Avengers than happened to actual Avengers. Unfortunately, Bucky had overheard that comment and subsequently made himself scarce for over a month. Darcy kept thoughts like that to herself after that. 

It was just coffee. It was probably fine, right? And if it wasn’t fine, medical was _right there_.

With that settled, Darcy picked up the cup, took a sip, and nearly died of happiness. The coffee tasted even better than it smelled. If it was poison, Darcy would definitely go into her stupidity-fueled coma happily. She grinned and settled down into her chair, ready to not do any work at all until she had consumed every last drop of the delicious coffee. She kicked her feet up onto the desk and leaned back in her chair, snuggling in.

“Darcy, I’m not up to doing the science today. Want to just take the day?” Jane grumbled as she entered the lab. “Oh. You look happy. Why do you look happy?”

Darcy arched an eyebrow at her in her best imitation of Natasha. “Do I not look happy normally?”

Jane smirked at her. “Only when Bucky is around.”

“You can just...yeah! With that. You...yeah,” Darcy rambled. She could feel her face heat up and she wondered if the poison in her coffee could make her turn invisible.

Jane laughed as she hung up her coat. “I need coffee. Do you want coffee?”

Darcy waved her cup. “I take that to mean that this sweetness isn’t from you then?”

Jane frowned. “No. Where’d you get it?”

“It was on my desk when I got here.”

“And you’re _drinking_ it?”

“Medical is _right there_ ,” Darcy reminded her. “You’ve done worse for less.”

Jane sighed and rolled her eyes with a smile. “Okay then. Walk with me while I go get myself coffee.”

Darcy pulled herself out of her seat. “I’ll split the scone with you,” she offered as they left the lab.

“Someone left you a scone too? How do you rate.”

“I’m just awesome, I guess,” Darcy replied. 

“Maybe it’s your Secret Santa, making up for the party.”

Darcy grimaced. She hadn’t considered that. She would prefer to never hear about a Secret Santa ever again. “Possible, but I doubt it. And even if it was, it’s too late. I’ve decided my Secret Santa is dead to me.”

They stopped short at the corner before the elevator, the sight in front of them causing them both to pause. 

Bob was pinned to the wall with a series of strategically placed arrows holding him up by the straps of his uniform. HIs feet dangled a little, his toes just barely brushing the floor. He raised a hand the inch or so the give in the fabric allowed and waved. 

“Hi Darcy! Hi Jane!”

“Uh...Hi Bob,” Darcy replied. “Need some help?”

“Oh no, I’m fine.” Bob grinned at them, like he was just happy to be included in something.

It was Bob. He probably was just happy to be included in something. 

Darcy and Jane exchanged a look. It wasn’t the weirdest predicament they’d found Bob in over the years, but it was up there. Darcy was inclined to take him at his word that he was fine and not ask any questions.

Maybe she and Bob should work out some sort of panic word system or something. Just in case.

Jane frowned at him. “How did you get up there?”

Bob flushed. “Oh. Well, see. Agent Romanoff found out that I had cheated a little on the Secret Santa and-” 

_THWAK!_

The coffee cup in Darcy’s hand exploded as an arrow shot through it and sank into the wall near Bob. He and Darcy let out matching high pitched shrieks.

Darcy shook her head in disgust as she shook the drips of coffee off of her hands and lamented the loss of her delicious beverage.

She turned around and looked up, finding Clint perched in the hallway a few floors above.

“Barton!” Darcy yelled. “What the hell?”

“Nothin’ to see, Lewis!” Clint yelled back. “On your way!”

Darcy scowled at him. “Some people take Secret Santa WAY. TOO. SERIOUSLY.”

“Whatever you say, Mopey.”

Darcy gasped in outrage and took a step towards the elevators, determined to get up there and give Barton a taste of his own medicine. Jane held her back.

Darcy growled a little, then relented and turned back to Bob. “You okay?” He nodded. “You want us to do anything?”

“Save yourselves!” he hissed.

“Whatever you say. Catch you later!” Darcy grabbed Jane and made for the elevator before Jane could protest. Whatever was going on between Bob and Strike Team Delta, Darcy wanted no parts of it.

“That was exciting, even for here,” Jane remarked, her tone dry.

“That was _annoying_ ,” Darcy corrected. “Now I need more coffee. I don’t even know what that was to ask for another one!”

“What did it taste like?”

“Magic and rainbows and everything I’ve ever wanted in a man but have never been able to find.”

Jane looked like she was holding back a laugh. “You love life has been pretty pathetic.”

“Don’t even remind me.”

The elevator doors opened and Bucky was on the other side. He looked surprised to see them. “Morning,” he said, glancing at Darcy’s hands. “Everything all right?”

“Santa’s elves could use a talking to,” Darcy muttered, then at Bucky’s bewildered look gave him a tired smile. “Just getting some coffee.”

Bucky frowned. “Have you been up to the lab yet?”

“Just came from there.”

“Oh.” Bucky glanced at Jane, then back to Darcy. “I won’t keep you then.”

“Will I see you later?” Darcy asked as Bucky moved to walk away. 

Bucky’s shoulders slumped a little as he entered the elevator. He looked back at Darcy. “Let’s see how the day goes.”

“Oh. Okay. Have a good one.”

The elevator doors closed and Jane looped an arm through Darcy’s.

“What was that about?” she asked.

Darcy groaned and laid her head on Jane’s shoulder. “I haven’t had enough coffee to decipher _men_.”

Jane laughed. “Let’s fix that.”

“You think if I describe the floaty, happy feeling my last coffee gave me, the barista will know what magic to do to make me another one?”

“Only one way to find out. Let’s go, Mopey.”


	8. Chapter 8

“OOOOFFE RRREE!”

Darcy didn’t look up from her computer. “That’s great Jane, just set it over there.”

There was a huff of frustration, but Darcy barely heard it. She was _so close_ to cracking whatever bug had gotten into her code that was making it not do the thing. She needed it to do the thing so that Jane could do her thing and then they could all go home. A paper bag landed with a _thwack_ as Jane dropped it from her teeth, finally causing Darcy to look up.

Her hands had been full and Darcy hadn’t offered to help. Whoops.

“I’m keeping you in caffeine and sugar, you could at least acknowledge that,” Jane grumbled good-naturedly as she set the coffee on Darcy’s desk. 

“Sorry Janey.”

Jane waved her off, then reached into the bag to pull out a muffin for herself. “How goes the bug?”

“Evasive little bastard,” Darcy muttered before taking a sip from the cup Jane offered. 

Jane frowned. “Anything I can do?”

“Oh this one is _mine_. I require vengeance.”

Jane nodded. “And you shall have it.” She poked around a few papers on Darcy’s desk, probably looking for the notes Darcy had transcribed earlier. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?” Darcy asked, distracted again by the code on her screen.

Jane waved a hand in front of Darcy’s face. “This.” 

Darcy turned and looked to see what Jane was holding. “Next year’s planner? Sweet, I didn’t know those came in yet.”

Jane looked puzzled. “I didn’t order them yet.”

“Jane, it’s almost the end of December.”

“I was getting to it!”

Darcy sighed. Jane might have _excellent_ taste in planners, but she shouldn’t have been put in charge of ordering them. She held out her hand and Jane gave her the planner. Darcy flipped it open. 

It was _gorgeous_. Everything was tabbed, there was tons of space to write notes and about a hundred pages of graph paper in the back for whatever Darcy (or more likely Jane) would need to sketch out in a hurry. The days were vertical, just the way she liked, so she could keep a short, bulleted list of each day’s highlights. There was a spot to track her water intake every day and a goals page and a project tracker and…

“Are you sure you didn’t order this?” Darcy asked.

“Positive.”

“It’s literally everything we said we’ve ever wanted in a planner.”

“But did you get two of them?”

Darcy glared at Jane, who just grinned back at her. She returned her attention to the planner, carefully flipping through the pages and reveling in the weight of the paper and how easily the pages turned on the spiral rings.

If Darcy could marry an inanimate object, she might just pick this planner.

She got to the end and started flipping through again, catching a glimpse of handwriting on one of the pages for January.

It would figure - she somehow ended up with the world’s most beautiful planner and it was _used_.

She flipped back to try to find the handwriting again and - 

_WHOOOOOMP WHOOOOOMP WHOOOOOMP!_

Darcy groaned. “Tell me it’s a drill.”

Jane grabbed her coat, tossing Darcy’s coat at her and hitting her in the head. Darcy was mildly impressed - Jane’s aim was improving. “This time of year?”

Darcy opened the bottom desk drawer and grabbed her bag, tossed the planner inside, then kicked the drawer closed as she threw on her jacket. She grabbed her coffee cup then motioned for Jane to lead the way. 

“Yaaaaaay, quality time in the panic room!” she deadpanned.

* * *

Darcy tossed her keys into the basket by the door and kicked her shoes onto the mat as she rolled her neck. 5 hours in a panic room, all because some jerk decided it was a _great_ idea to do some holiday-themed villainy in the vicinity of Avengers HQ. All was well in the end, but _yikes_. 

Darcy reminded herself that she loved this life. She really truly did. 

She just generally loved it a little more on days that she didn’t spend locked in a panic room.

She wandered into the kitchen, trying to remember what she had on hand that she could finagle into a dinner. She paused as she entered and stared at the kitchen island.

Where a giant vase of flowers was sitting.

Darcy blinked, then slowly looked around. She was definitely in her apartment. And those flowers definitely hadn’t been there when she’d left this morning.

“I swear to god, if there is even a bomb in the flower vase, I’m going to scream every obscenity I know in every language I’ve ever heard of and I don’t care if Santa is listening,” Darcy said to the room. She gently poked and prodded at the flowers, trying to recall the “so now you’re likely to be a target” training that they’d gone through when she and Jane first relocated their work to the Tower. There wasn’t anything obviously wrong with the flowers, as far as she could see. 

As she poked around, a small slip of paper fell from the flowers and into the water in the vase.

“So that was probably the card, Darcy,” she muttered to herself. “Way to go.”

She fished the card out of the water, but it was no use. The ink had smeared and faded beyond recovery. She threw it away with scowl, then petulantly sniffed the flowers.

It was a beautiful bouquet of white Christmas roses. Darcy grinned despite herself. Christmas roses weren’t actually roses at all, which was partly why Darcy had always liked them. They were undercover roses - spy roses. 

Appropriate, all things considered. She just wished she knew who had sent them.

She took one last sniff and then returned her attention to her dinner prospects. She could ask around about the flowers in the morning.

* * *

“Woman, you are regressing!” Darcy grumbled as she pushed Jane into the kitchen. “We are stopping for lunch.”

“But the-”

“We are stopping. For. Lunch.” Darcy put a little bit of an extra growl in her voice, so Jane would know she meant business. Jane pouted slightly then perked up as she looked past Darcy.

“What’s all this?”

Darcy turned to see what Jane was looking at, keeping a firm grip on her friend’s arm, lest this was a fake out so she could make a break for it and go back to the lab. It wouldn’t be the first time Jane tried it. 

On the table was a festive gift bag, complete with patterned tissue paper practically exploding out of the top. There was a large gift tag on the front that read “Darcy.”

She looked around the bag, gingerly poking at it, hoping for a card or something to give her any indication as to who it was from.

“I am the only Darcy who works here, right?”

Jane nodded. “Last I checked.”

Darcy frowned at her. “When did you ever check? _Why_ did you ever check?”

“Did you think you were the only one who had to come up with weird ways to pass the time while the computer does its thing?”

“Fair enough.” Darcy pulled the tissue paper out of the bag and looked inside.

She gasped. “This is...It’s...”

Jane hooked her chin over her shoulder so she could see what Darcy was looking at. “Yarn?”

Yarn. She says _yarn_.

“It’s not just yarn, Jane.” Darcy tentatively reached out and touched the soft fibers with something akin to reverence. “If I’m not mistaken this is that sweater kit I’ve been eying for months.”

“The one with the fancy yarn so expensive you were considering selling a kidney?”

“The one I couldn’t quite bring myself to buy, not when I have so much yarn already and this kit being so expensive. And because I might one day need that kidney. Or you might need that kidney. Basically, I’m hoarding my kidneys, just in case.” Darcy shook her head and dug through the bag, searching for a card or something, anything, to give her a clue where the gift came from. “This is too much.”

“Why?” Jane asked.

“Huh?”

“Why is it too much?”

“I just...I don’t even know who it’s from! How can I accept a crazy expensive gift like this when I don’t know who it’s from?”

Jane shrugged. “Maybe it’s your Secret Santa, making good.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at her, her suspicions rising. “It’s not from you is it? You’re not trying to make up for that whole thing?”

Jane raised her hands in surrender. “No way. I’m hoarding my kidneys too - what if _you_ need one someday?” 

“Good. Because you and I have an agreement about things like this.”

“Kidneys?”

“Gifts!” Darcy laughed. 

“Exactly,” Jane replied. “So no, while you are absolutely worth it, this wasn’t me.”

Darcy sighed and stuffed the tissue paper back in the bag. “Well. I don’t know what to do with this.” She looked up at movement in the entrance. “Oh hey stranger,” she greeted.

Bucky froze in the doorway before hastily stuffing his hand in his pocket. “Hi,” he replied quietly, looking a little forlorn.

“Long time no see,” Darcy said, attempting to charm him into a little better mood. “Where’ve you been?”

“Busy,” he replied. “I should go.” Before Darcy could say anything else, he was gone.

“What in the world is going on with that man?” Jane muttered.

“I don’t have the foggiest idea.”


	9. Chapter 9

Darcy stared at the basket on her desk. It was yet another gift from the little elf that was following her, and once again there was no note or any kind of sign as to who it might have been from. This had been going on for too long and had gotten too expensive for it to have been her Secret Santa from the party. Even if they felt bad for forgetting her and were trying to make up for it, this was all just too much.

And it was all so _personal_. Sure, the coffee wasn’t exactly - but it while it wasn’t her usual order, it was exactly her taste. So this wasn’t some random gift-giver. This person knew her, and knew her well.

But who could it be?

Jane was out. While she had always been the most likely candidate, they’d had this discussion. It wasn’t Jane’s style, they had an agreement about gifts, and Jane knew that Darcy was getting a little frustrated with the secrecy. If this were her doing, she would have come clean about it a long time ago.

It wasn’t likely to be Clint or Natasha. While the secrecy might be something those two would find hilarious, the gifts themselves weren’t characteristic of either of them. She didn’t doubt that Natasha probably knew her better than she knew herself, based solely on the way she ate her pizza or something, these gifts just didn’t fit with what Darcy knew of Natasha’s gifting style. And Clint was far more of a gift certificate for pizza sort anyway. 

Bob? Well, Bob was a dear, dear friend. But Bob was also endearingly clueless. It just wasn’t in his nature to think up gifts like this.

Same for Steve - Darcy definitely considered him to be a good friend, and he would want to set the Secret Santa mishap right. There was no way he hadn’t overheard her telling Natasha the night of the party, and if even he hadn’t, Natasha likely filled him in. But these gifts just weren’t in line with the kind of friendship she had with him. She could maybe see it if they were dating, or almost dating, or about to be dating, but they most definitely were not. Something in Darcy recoiled at the thought. Steve was great and would be a doting partner. Just not for her.

And that left….who? No one.

What a sad indictment of her life. 

Well, that wasn’t true. She could immediately think of at least five people who would care enough to do something like this. She was immeasurably lucky. 

She was just getting a little frustrated with not knowing.

There was one person she hadn’t considered. One person she didn’t dare consider.

Darcy sighed and poked at the basket, still not up to opening it. No matter how much she might _wish_ the gift-giver were Bucky, how she might fantasize that it was his way of letting her know that he might be interested in _more_ \- if any of that were true, Bucky wouldn’t have made himself so damn scarce since the party. He would have said something about her gift, he would have given her these gifts himself. Instead, she’d barely seen him. And while that might not be an uncommon occurrence, the complete and total radio silence was. There had barely been a hello when she did see him and their never-ending stream of texted jokes and rants and memes had completely dried up. 

No. Her gift-giver wasn’t Bucky, no matter how much she might want it to be.

She eyed her computer as a thought occurred to her. With the exception of the flowers, all of her gifts had been left in public spaces.

Public spaces that had cameras.

Cameras that she maybe, sort of, had hacked her first week of the Tower. So she was nosey and slightly paranoid. Anyone would have done the same.

It was probably too late to snag the footage of the coffee being delivered, but recent video she could get. Anything older than a day or two was saved to servers Darcy hadn’t cracked - and was a little terrified to try. Some things were better left undisturbed. But a recent video? Easy.

The yarn though. That was only yesterday. She looked around the lab. Jane was out for a bit, her meeting scheduled to run at least another hour, and Darcy had sent the interns off on what was probably a wild goose chase. There was plenty of time before anyone else was expected in the lab. 

Decision made, Darcy started typing, navigating her way through the various servers until she found what she wanted. She pulled up the camera feeds from the kitchen and quickly scrolled through the timestamps, stopping when she saw herself discovering the gift. That was her starting point. She went backwards, smiling to herself as she watched her colleagues zip across her screen in reverse. 

Wait.

She stopped the footage. The gift bag was gone.

Okay, so this was her end point. She noted the timestamp. Whoever her gift-giver was would show up somewhere between this point and when she’d found it. She noted with some surprise that it was only a 10 minute window. 

Did whoever left the gift know she’d been on her way to the kitchen? Or was it just a coincidence? 

Well, she’d know who it was in a moment. Whenever she figured it out, she could ask them.

She advanced the footage, squinting a little as she watched people zip around the screen. 

No, there she was again, entering the kitchen with Jane and discovering the gift.

She went back and watched the footage in real time this time.

Still nothing. One moment the table was empty, the next the bag appeared. No one was in the kitchen. It was almost like magic.

Well that was a thought. Darcy watched the footage again. No tell-tale scarlet vapor or gold sparks. Probably not magic then. Or at least - she could rule out Wanda or Doc Strange or Wong. So if not magic, Darcy was back to square one - in a building full of spies, altering security video was probably a common occurrence. 

She had to wonder why they even bothered to have cameras in that case. 

Okay. So yesterday’s video was a bust. But could whoever have left today’s gift have already gotten to that footage? Only one way to find out.

As Darcy navigated to the video feeds for the lab, she couldn’t help but think about the gifts themselves. Each one wasn’t just thoughtful. It was as though someone had gone through her mental wish list - things that maybe she would like for herself, but hadn’t bothered to buy - or in the case of the yarn, couldn’t justify the expense. Especially when she had two entire under-bed storage bins stuffed full of yarn for potential projects. 

Still. Whoever the gift-giver was, they _knew_ her. They gave her gifts that she loved and appreciated and would use without her ever having to say a thing. It’s not like she handed a list to someone and said “hey, here are some ideas if you need them.” 

Being known like that - someone paying attention like that - was a heady thing.

Darcy was having complicated feelings about it. Feelings that could be encouraged into _feelings_ under the right conditions. She couldn’t help the spark of hope that rose in her whenever she found a new gift, or the warm feeling that filled her chest for hours after. But why the secrecy?

She didn’t understand. And her confusion was definitely putting a damper on what was otherwise a nice bit of serendipity in what had otherwise been a pretty shit year.

Well. She could sort out her feelings later - _after_ she sussed out who the gift-giver was. She opened the files for today and scrolled to when she arrived in the lab to find the basket on her desk, then set the video to go backward in time.

“Oh good, you got it!”

Darcy immediately closed the video and looked up. “Sorry?”

Bob grinned at her. “You got the basket!”

Darcy blinked. “This...is from you?” 

If Bob had been the one leaving her gifts this whole time, Darcy had a _lot_ of re-evaluating to do. Starting immediately with shutting down any potential _feelings_ for the gift-giver because Bob was married and they were absolutely not going to go there.

_Unhappily married though!_

_Under no circumstances, Brain. Under. No. Circumstances._

“Well, I delivered it,” Bob said. “It was in the mail room for you, I just brought it up.”

Mail room. Right.

Relief rushed through her as Darcy thanked every passing deity that she didn’t have to go untangle a whole box of feelings about Bob.

“Thanks,” Darcy replied, thankful both for the favor as well as the fact that Bob couldn’t read her mind because _yikes_.

“Last minute shopping?” Bob asked. “Because I know that look - you’re not running data.”

Darcy laughed, nervously. “Something like that.”

“Well, have fun! I have to get back to it. I’ll keep an eye out for any more packages that show up in the mail room for you!”

“Thanks Bob,” Darcy replied as Bob left the lab with a wave. As soon as he was out of sight, Darcy thumped her head off the desk.

So the basket wasn’t from her mysterious gift-giver after all. She was an idiot.

On the third or fourth thump of her head against the desk, Darcy had a flash of inspiration. She _could_ at least make an educated guess as to whether her gift-giver had also been her wayward Secret Santa. All she had to do was check the list.

She opened up the admin drive where the list had been stored and quickly scanned the files looking for the spreadsheet. 

Nothing. 

She ran a search for the file name.

Nothing again.

“Oh sure, _now_ you make it difficult!” Darcy spat at the screen. She tapped in a few more commands, hoping that maybe the file had simply been deleted or moved and Darcy could easily recover it, but she had no luck. The file, so unguarded before, was gone without a trace.

“Figures,” she muttered.

She sighed and looked at the basket, deciding that she could at least open _this_. Maybe it wouldn’t be so rude and refuse to identify who it was from.

She opened it up to find a few specialty flours and other baking supplies. She dug through in confusion until she reached the bottom of the basket. There was a notebook tucked away, under everything else. She pulled it out of the basket and opened it up. 

It was a hand-written recipe book. Specifically, her aunt’s hand-written recipe book.

Tears pricked at her eyes. There was a small card taped to the back of the notebook and she opened it, finding a card from her cousin with an explanation. No one else had been interested in the recipes, so they’d been sent along to Darcy. 

Before she could get overwhelmed by the emotions swirling through her, Darcy pushed back from her desk and headed to the kitchen for some tea. 

She would deal with it later. All of it. 


	10. Chapter 10

Darcy sat at her kitchen table, flipping through the recipe book. It was nice of her cousin to think of her - had Darcy ever found out that they’d tossed it, she would have been devastated. Privately, of course. No need to guilt trip people who were already grieving. But devastated all the same.

She itched to make something out of the book, but couldn’t decide. The caramel cookie recipe was in here and Darcy already knew she had all of the ingredients to make them, but...Well, she could barely bring herself to _look_ at that page, let alone attempt the recipe. 

Maybe she should get out of the house. Take a walk, get some fresh air, and revisit this with renewed perspective in an hour or so. Maybe then the idea of making the cookies wouldn’t be so foreboding. 

She looked out the window to see the snow swirling outside. It was practically a white out - she couldn’t even see the lights from the building across the way. 

Maybe not a walk outside then.

She frowned at the weather, then down at the notebook. The memories flipping through it made her miss her aunt so much she could hardly breathe and Darcy was suddenly, vehemently overwhelmed with the desire to not be alone.

Well, if there was a benefit to living in the Tower, it was that she didn’t have to bake in her kitchen if she didn’t want to. There was always the common kitchen.

She grabbed the notebook, snapping it closed as she made for the door. The other benefit of baking in the common kitchen? Darcy grinned at the thought. She wouldn’t have to buy her own groceries.

* * *

The kitchen was unfortunately empty. Darcy frowned, tossing the notebook onto the counter. She would have happily tolerated general chaos in the kitchen if it meant she wouldn’t be alone. Even Clint’s badgering wouldn’t have bothered her tonight. Alas, it didn’t seem like it was meant to be. Maybe the universe was trying to tell her something.

She flipped open the notebook again, still trying to decide on a recipe. “Put on some Christmas music, would you, J?”

_“It’s comin’ on Christmas. They’re cuttin’ down trees-”_

“Not. That.” Darcy growled.

Thankfully, Jarvis got the point and quickly switched from Joni Mitchell to something a little more upbeat. Darcy didn’t even have to threaten to reprogram the AI.

She flipped through the notebook again, still undecided what she wanted to make and frustrated that she was overthinking it to this degree. She was ready to give up, open to a random page, and make whatever she landed on. Unless it was the caramel cookies. She wasn’t ready for that. She was totally allowed a mulligan in her own game right?

“Hey Darcy.”

Darcy looked up to find Bucky hovering in the entry. “Hey,” she breathed, a little surprised to see him. He’d been so scarce recently, she’d been worried that her gift had run him off entirely. But here he was, saying hello. Now it was just a matter of how long he stayed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice so soft and quiet.

“Trying to pick a recipe to make.”

“What’s it narrowed down to?”

Darcy held up the notebook. “Pretty much this entire book.”

“Ah. Feeling decisive then.”

“Clearly,” she grinned, relieved to have a little normalcy back between them. His return smile was tentative, but genuine, and Darcy felt a little bit of weight come off her shoulders. “Want to help? We can split the results.”

Bucky hesitated. “Not sure I’d be much good at baking.”

“I’ll show you.”

He hesitated again, then nodded. “Okay.”

She pushed the notebook at him. “You get to pick.”

Bucky gave her a look. “Did you ask me to join you just so you didn’t have to decide?”

“Maybe,” she lied. That wasn’t the _only_ reason, but he didn’t need to know that.

Bucky glowered at her briefly, but the sting of it was lessened by the smile that ghosted his features. He finally approached the counter and took the notebook. “This is handwritten,” he said, surprised.

“Yep. It was my aunt’s. My cousin sent it to me.”

Bucky looked at Darcy curiously and she quickly looked away. Thankfully, he seemed to understand and didn’t press further. He paged through the notebook carefully, skimming the pages and looking for something to make. He finally paused at one recipe near the end of the notebook.

“I know they’re sort of a punchline these days,” he began, shrinking back a little as if she’d laugh at him, “but could we make this?”

Darcy leaned closer to him to read the recipe he was referring to then smiled. “Yes. We can absolutely make a fruitcake.”

“Do we have all the ingredients?”

Darcy grinned. “This kitchen has everything. Why do you think I came up here to bake?”

“So you wouldn’t have to buy your own groceries?”

Darcy paused, annoyed that he knew her so well. “Fine, smartypants. Why _else_ do you think I came up here to bake?”

He leaned back against the counter, a small smirk appearing on his face. “Because _I_ wasn’t in your kitchen,” he teased.

Two could play at that game. “Yes,” she replied simply. The smirk immediately slid off his face and was replaced with a faint look of shock. Darcy turned to the pantry to start gathering ingredients so he couldn’t see her look of triumph. 

She pulled the flour, sugar, and spices out of the pantry, then set to looking for all the various dried fruit they’d need. He set the oven to preheat and started measuring out ingredients. They moved in complete synchronicity and Darcy wondered with a pang if it could always be like this. If every night they could make dinner with such ease and familiarity. 

It was then she realized that she was in far more trouble than she’d ever thought. The gift-giver leaving her presents all over the lab might _know_ her heart, but Bucky Barnes still had claim to it. If only he were the one leaving the gifts. Then things would be perfect.

Provided they ever got their shit together and _got together_ that is. _Then_ things would be perfect. 

“Okay,” she said, pushing that thought out of her mind to focus on the task at hand. “Step one.”

“Step one,” he repeated.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to catch on.

“Oh!” He looked down at the recipe book. “Step one. Soak everything in rum.”

“Boy, if that doesn’t sound like the start to a Saturday night.”

Bucky grinned at her. “A good Saturday night or a bad Saturday night?”

She placed the rum bottle on the counter and bumped his hip with hers. “Depends on the company.”

His eyes went all soft as he looked at her. “Yeah,” he replied. “I guess it does.”

Darcy smiled up at him for a moment, then tapped the recipe. “Okay, booze is all set. What’s next?”

* * *

When the baking was done and the cake on the counter to cool, Darcy snuck a look at him. She caught him sneaking a look back at her. She smiled encouragingly. It must have done the trick, because Bucky drew himself up, stuffing his hands in his pockets but an otherwise determined look on his face.

“Darcy,” he said, “about that party - ”

“Hey guys? That smells really great! Do you think I could have some and you could maybe get me down from here maybe?”

Darcy and Bucky both whipped around at the sound of yelling coming from the hall. 

“What in the-”

“Shit,” Bucky muttered.

“Exactly,” Darcy responded distractedly as she quickly moved to the hallway. She looked around but didn’t see anyone.

“Hi!” said a voice from above.

Darcy looked up. ‘Peter?” she asked, feeling a little gobsmacked by the sight in front of her. “What in the name of Loki’s sneaky exploits are you doing up up there?”

“Loki had nothing to do with it,” Peter groaned. “But otherwise I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Kid,” Bucky said. “What the hell.”

“I don’t really…” Peter trailed off.

Darcy looked a little closer at the bizarre sight. Peter was stuck to the ceiling - not the way he’d normally be stuck to the ceiling, what with his freaky spider powers and all. His back was flat against the ceiling and he looked like he had been stuck up there with duct tape. 

No. No, not duct tape. 

“Did...did you have a…” Darcy searched for the words but came up with nothing. “...misfire?” she finished lamely.

“No,” Peter muttered, a little petulantly. “Can one of you help me down, please?”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. “Not until I get the story.”

“It’s just...you know...Miss Romanoff - Agent! Agent Romanoff - she’s kinda...making me pay.”

Bucky choked on a laugh, but quickly covered it. “For what?” he asked.

Peter looked pained. “For the...secretsantathing.”

“She’s _still_ on the Secret Santa thing?” Darcy exclaimed, a little hypocritically, given that she herself was still very much moping about her Secret Santa. But that was between her and her neroses, thank you. She wasn’t going around sticking people to walls and ceilings.

Bucky looked between Darcy and Peter, a confused look in his eye. “The lab Secret Santa?”

Darcy stared at Bucky. The lab didn’t have it’s own Secret Santa, what was he -

“I’m really stuck guys, can someone help please?” Peter said.

“Yeah, okay,” Darcy said. “Bucky, give me your knife.”

Bucky gave her a flat look instead. 

“I’ll give it back!” Darcy insisted. The look persisted. “Promise!”

“You want to incur the wrath of Natasha?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I’ll deal with Natasha.” Bucky’s flat look only changed in that he raised his eyebrows. “You’ll protect me?” Darcy amended.

Bucky huffed a little, then pulled a knife out of his pocket. Instead of handing it over, he reached up to cut Peter free. “One limb at a time, so you can stick yourself to the wall and climb down, okay? No falling on top of Darcy.”

“Yessir. Absolutely.”

In moments, Peter was free. He slowly climbed down, shaking out his limbs to regain feeling in them. “Thanks guys! Hey, what were you baking, it smelled really good.”

“Fruitcake,” Darcy said.

Peter wrinkled his nose. “Really?”

Bucky pointed the knife at him and Peter immediately raised his hands in surrender. Darcy put her hand on Bucky’s wrist and gently pushed his arm back down.

“Don’t knock it,” Bucky muttered.

“Would you like to try some?” Darcy asked. “It’s probably cool enough by now.”

Peter opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. He looked from Darcy to Bucky and back again, then shook his head. “No, thank you. Thanks for the help though! I would have been stuck up there all night.”

“Only until Natasha decided to let you down,” Darcy said.

“Like he said,” Bucky replied. “All night.”

With a smile and a wave, Peter ran off, leaving Darcy and Bucky alone in the hall.

“Does it worry anyone else that he fights crime in this city?” Darcy asked.

“No more than anything else worries me.”

Darcy grinned. “So. Fruitcake?”

Bucky smiled back at her. “Sure.”

“Oh Barnes?”

They turned to see Natasha at the end of the hall.

Bucky sighed and looked at Darcy. “Run,” he whispered.

“No!” Darcy hissed back. “I’m not letting you take the fall for this.”

“Remember me fondly,” Bucky said, then turned to Natasha. “Yes, Natasha. How can I help you today?”

Darcy rolled her eyes, but did as he asked and went back into the kitchen. She could hear the two arguing outside as she puttered around, slicing the fruitcake and cleaning up the kitchen. After twenty minutes, the voices outside quieted, but Bucky didn’t reappear. When Darcy finally went to check, to make sure that two two hadn’t actually killed each other, the hallway was empty. 

Darcy sighed. And they’d been having such a nice evening too. She looked back at the slices of fruitcake, all nicely plated and waiting to be sampled. Her good mood evaporated as she wondered if that was a metaphor and the universe was trying to tell her something.

No. Forget that. She was done moping. If the universe was trying to tell her something, the universe was going to have to step up and make the words come from Bucky Barnes himself.

Darcy Lewis was going to wrap up this fruitcake and take it to Bucky’s apartment, then they were going to have a _conversation_. About feelings. Like adults.

Probably.


	11. Chapter 11

Darcy hesitated outside of Bucky’s door, her grip on the small plate of fruitcake tightening as her nerves increased. 

“Suck it up, Lewis,” she muttered and knocked on the door before she could talk herself out of it.

The door opened.

“Shit,” Bucky said. “I’m an asshole.”

Darcy grinned, her nerves evaporating. “What a greeting.”

Bucky stepped back to let Darcy inside. “I didn’t...I’m sorry I left you in the kitchen. Natasha’s...Natasha.”

That explained nothing and yet everything all at once. “It’s okay, Buck. I brought your fruitcake down for you.”

“It’s really not,” Bucky retorted. “You deserve better than that.”

“Yeah well,” Darcy held the plate out to him as they entered his kitchen. “It’s a good thing you’re cute, I guess.”

Bucky accepted the plate while giving her a _look_. Darcy only grinned at him in response, until his expression finally broke and he smiled back at her. 

“How do you do that?” he muttered.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel normal.”

Darcy considered him a minute, weighing both a flippant answer and the sincere one. She opted for sincere. “Does it help that I don’t think you’re abnormal to begin with?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. Well, then. It’s just a talent I guess.” She leaned against the counter, the cabinets at her back so she could face him. “Did you want to sample our work? See if we made something edible?”

Bucky nodded. “Tea?”

“Always.”

He reached around her for the tea kettle, then busied himself with heating the water and measuring out the leaves. Darcy moved around him, getting utensils and napkins, once again touched by how easy this was.

If this was easy, why wasn’t anything else when it came to them?

Before that thought could spiral any further, Bucky spoke and interrupted her thoughts. 

“I’m sorry if I made things...weird. Before. I’m glad we can still...do this and it…” His halting sentence trailed off. Darcy waited for him to collect himself and finish. It was a struggle. She had no earthly idea what he was referring to, when _he_ might have “made things weird,” so she couldn’t begin to formulate a response or help him out in any way. If anything, she was the one who made it weird with her Secret Santa gift to him.

Bucky closed his eyes and blew out a short huff of breath, clearly frustrated with himself. After a moment, he opened to his eyes to look at her again. “I’m just glad that if I did make it weird, it’s not any longer.”

Well that wasn’t helpful. “Bucky...I don’t actually know what you’re talking about,” she admitted.

Bucky looked surprised. “I heard about the Secret Santa thing. How someone in the lab forgot you and I just...I wanted to...” His voice trailed off again and he sighed. 

Darcy felt for him, but was more confused than ever. She really kinda needed him to finish his thought so she could respond properly. She figured her best bet would be to continue to patiently wait him out, let him say whatever he needed to say on his own terms and cross her fingers that it would make some kind of sense to her when he did. Patience was not really one of her virtues.

He finally met her eyes. “I just wanted to let you know that you mean something to me. Even if other people...you just. You mean something to me.” The kettle whistled and Bucky quickly looked away from her to attend to it. “When you never said anything about it, I thought maybe I’d ruined everything, so. I’m sorry if any of it was unwelcome.”

“Bucky…” Darcy didn’t quite know what to say. She had a feeling the answer was right in front of her, but she just wasn’t seeing it. And as much as she wanted to wrap herself up and roll around in the fact that she meant something to him, there was still a disconnect here that she needed to untangle before she could get to that. She had to force the words to come out in a civil tone and not just snap - again, patience really was not a quality she possessed and she was already at her emotional limit for the month. “I’m sorry. I still don’t know what you’re talking about. What is it that I didn’t say anything about?”

“Well. I guess you wouldn’t have known about the yarn - you got there and found it before I could attach the card. But I left a note in the flowers. And the planner.” His smile was sad. “What I don’t get is why you threw away the coffee. You never turn down coffee, even if it’s not the way you like it.”

Realization hit her and she simultaneously wanted to do a victory dance and smack herself in the face.

“You left me those gifts?” she asked.

He gave her a strange look. “I left a note.”

“Yeah. Never got the note.” At his frown, she continued. “I saw writing in the planner, but didn’t have a chance to read it before the lab went into lockdown and I got shoved in a panic room for 5 hours. I dropped the note from the flowers into the water before I could read it and when I fished it out, the ink had smudged. Bucky, I had no idea. _That’s_ why I never said anything, not because I was weirded out or that it was unwelcome or anything like that.”

Bucky still looked unsure. “And the coffee?”

Darcy snorted. “It was delicious, until Clint shot the cup out of my hand with an arrow.”

“I’m not even going to ask.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

He looked at her with a little bit of wonder. “You really didn’t know.”

“No,” she promised. “I really didn’t know.”

“Oh.” He turned back to the tea, pouring the hot water over the leaves and setting a timer.

“Bucky,” Darcy said, then waited until he finally met her eyes once more. “Thank you. I loved it. All of it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You don’t happen to still have the note you meant to give me with the yarn, do you?” 

Bucky hesitated, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled slip of paper and handed it to her. She took it and considered it, then looked back at him before unfurling it to read.

“Speaking of never saying anything,” she said slowly, “I didn’t see your reaction to your Secret Santa gift.”

“My Secret Santa gift?”

Darcy nodded, suddenly nervous. If he’d hated it, if she’d scared him off or made him uncomfortable, he wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble he did with the gifts he’d left for her, so the nerves were likely unfounded, but they existed all the same.

“What Secret Santa gift?” he asked.

Darcy blinked. “From the party. The Secret Santa exchange.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t in the exchange your lab did.”

“What? The lab didn’t do its own exchange this year, I’m talking about the Tower party.”

Bucky looked highly confused now. “The Tower party is in two days?”

They both stared at each other in confusion, neither understanding what the other was talking about. Darcy was about to try again when the door to Bucky’s apartment opened.

“Buck!” Steve called. “Oh. Hey Darcy.”

Darcy attempted to shake herself out of her confusion to greet Steve properly. “Hey,” she said, weakly.

Steve handed a gift bag to Bucky. A very familiar gift bag.

Holy shit.

“Buck, I’ve been meaning to get this to you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s your Secret Santa gift from the other night.”

Bucky’s eyes darted between Steve and Darcy. “Did you two plan this?”

The pieces all started to fall into place and once again Darcy felt like smacking herself. “Hey Buck,” she said, “where were you oh say...about a week ago?”

He frowned at her. “Mopping up a riot in Madripoor. Why?”

Darcy nodded. “So that morning in the kitchen when you asked me if I’d had a rough night and I asked you if you had fun the night before and you said ‘it was a riot.’ You meant an _actual riot_.”

“Yes,” Bucky said, looking somewhere between confused and annoyed. “As opposed to what?”

“Yeah, I thought you meant you had fun at the party.”

“What. Party.” Bucky was practically grinding his teeth in frustration now.

“I’m just going to leave you two to sort this out,” Steve said, backing up slowly, then bolting for the door.

Darcy sighed. “When was the last time you checked your email?”

Bucky huffed and turned back to the tea, turning off the timer with only three seconds left and pouring the tea into their mugs. “I hate email.”

“I know you do. When?”

He held a mug out to her. “I don’t know - last month sometime?”

Darcy nodded. “Could you check it now, please?” At Bucky’s glower, she added, “For me?”

He dug his phone out of his pocket and tapped at it. He scrolled for a few minutes, his glare slowly melting into realization and then horror.

“I’m an asshole.”

Darcy grinned. “And why is that?”

“I had no idea there was a party or a gift exchange. How the hell did I get signed up for a gift exchange?”

“If I had to guess,” Darcy motioned at the door. “That one’s on Steve. Or Natasha, but most likely Steve.”

“Darcy,” Bucky said, ignoring her comment. “I was your Secret Santa. I’m the one who forgot you.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You didn’t know.” She shrugged. “And really, you kinda already made up for it, so there isn’t anything to-”

“No, Darce, that’s-”

“It’s fine, Buck. I promise.” She set her mug on the counter and grabbed the bag Steve had left behind, holding it out to him. “Now, would you like to open your gift from your Secret Santa?”

He didn’t look quite convinced, but took the bag anyway. He pulled the tissue paper out and carefully piled it on the counter, then pulled his gift out of the bag.

“The Keepsake Kitchen Diary,” he read, looking at the book’s cover. He flipped through the pages, then his eyes snapped to Darcy’s. “This is handwritten.”

“Yep.”

“This is your handwriting.”

“Yep.”

“You’re my Secret Santa.”

Darcy took a deep breath. “That day I asked you what you would want, if you could have any gift in the universe? I got your name that morning. After we talked, I ran around to everyone I could find and asked them for recipes that meant something to them and why.” She motioned to the book. “That’s them. Recipes and memories. I couldn’t give you your mom’s fruitcake or any of the memories that went with it but...I could give you this. A whole book of that feeling, from people who know and love you.”

“Darcy,” he breathed.

“I just wanted to let you know that you mean something to me,” she whispered.

He stared at her in shock for a few moments before bursting out laughing. “We are _complete idiots_ ,” he said.

Darcy nodded her agreement. “Guess that means we’re made for each other then.”

Bucky broke into a blinding grin. He reached forward, gently grasped her arm, and pulled her to him. “Guess so,” he murmured, before capturing her lips with his in a gentle, but still searing kiss.


	12. Chapter 12

Darcy turned to face him in the elevator, quickly giving his bow tie a slight adjustment before leaning in for a kiss, then wiping the lipstick print from his lips.

“Glad you finally managed to invite me to this thing without getting interrupted,” she teased.

“ _You’re_ glad?” Bucky huffed, with only semi-feigned annoyance. “Every damn time I worked up the courage,” he muttered.

“We got there in the end,” she reminded him, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

He held her close and kissed her temple. “We did,” he murmured.

Darcy let out a little happy hum and Bucky’s arms tightened around her. She luxuriated in the feeling for another moment before pulling away and looking up at him, a thought suddenly occurring to her. 

“I don’t want to share you,” she said.

Bucky gave her a confused look. “Okay? I’m fine with that.”

“I mean - tonight. We’re going to take one step into that party and everyone is going to be all over us for details. Especially since Natasha is still hounding everyone about all the cheating that went on with the Secret Santa.”

Bucky gave her a knowing grin. “Including yours.”

“Listen,” Darcy said quickly, “I had altruistic motives. I was trying to save Bob - I had no idea that Fury actually _liked_ the onesies.” She paused. “I didn’t need to know that really.”

Bucky grinned even wider at that. “Nobody needed to know that. Just be glad you never caught him wearing one.”

Darcy shuddered and cursed Bob for ever telling her that story. “I don’t want to think about that.” She forced the mental image of Nick Fury in a Captain America onesie out of her head and returned to her original point. “ _My_ only goal was to rig it so that Bob had to shop for a friend. Someone he knew. Make things a little easier for him.” 

“Natasha could say the same. So could Steve.”

She scowled. “Steve Rogers is on my shit list for his role in all this. Rigging the list and then pretending he’s above it all. The nerve.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You’re annoyed with Steve and not Natasha?”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him. “Who’s side are you on anyway?”

Bucky laughed and pulled her close again. “Yours,” he murmured, gently kissing her forehead. “Always yours.” At Darcy’s grumpy _harumph_ he continued. “Besides, without their meddling, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “We didn’t need Nat rigging a list I’d already rigged, or Steve rigging Nat’s rigged list for that. We were heading here eventually.”

“Eventually. You have so much faith in me,” Bucky replied, his tone flat and deprecating.

Darcy shrugged and replied honestly. “Yes. Always.”

Bucky’s eyes went soft, then with a small smile he reached around her and hit the elevator’s “cancel” button. The elevator lurched to a stop and she swayed into him. “So what’s the plan?” he asked.

Darcy shrugged again. “I have stuff to make pizza? We can put on a movie and watch the countdown on tv.”

“A movie and pizza, huh? But what if I wanted to take you dancing?” Bucky said, shifting slightly so they were swaying back and forth in a poor imitation of a dance.

“I have music,” Darcy reminded him. “We don’t have to be at a party to dance.”

He grinned, then reached over to push the button for Darcy’s floor. “You win.”

* * *

Natasha, Steve, Clint, and Bob waited by the elevator, watching the numbers slowly climb, then pause, then begin descending again.

“Uh...was it supposed to do that?” Bob asked.

Clint’s grin was wicked. “Looks like Barnes and Lewis made other plans.” Natasha poked him but he was unrepentant.

Steve watched the numbers thoughtfully. “They might not have been in that elevator. It could have been someone else.”

“I’ll pull up the cameras!” Bob said, reaching for his phone.

“NO!” the others yelled. 

Bob held up his hands in surrender. “Okay okay.” He put his phone away in one of the many pockets of the Hydra uniform he was still inexplicably wearing, all these years after defecting and at a New Year’s Eve party no less. It was part of his charm at this point.

Steve looked at Natasha. “We could just see them when everyone is back to work in January.”

Natasha's shoulders slumped briefly and then her eyes lit up with glee. “I can continue patrolling list violators into January!”

“No, Nat, that wasn’t-”

“Captain’s orders!” she declared, then looped her arm with Clint’s and dragged him away into the party.

* * *

A few minutes before midnight, Bucky and Darcy stood in her living room, swaying to the music softly playing from her stereo. 

“I feel like I should put the high heels back on,” Darcy joked. “I’m not tall enough for this.”

Bucky grinned and pulled her closer. “Your blisters disagree and I’m inclined to agree with them. Besides, you’re perfect,” he insisted.

“Charmer,” she teased. “You already got me, you don’t have to work so hard.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, moving so he could twirl her twice before pulling her close again. “I have to work twice as hard now to keep you, so you don’t start thinking I’m taking you for granted.”

Darcy just shook her head and ducked a little, trying to hide her rising blush. 

Bucky leaned in close to her ear and softly sang along to the music, his voice wildly out of tune and all the sweeter for it. “Christmas is comin’ so don’t buy me anything. I got what I wanted, I got what I needed. It’s you.” He kissed her temple. “It’s you.” Another kiss. “It’s you.” His arms tightened around her and Darcy felt herself fall that much harder for him.

She looked up at him, eyes begging for a real kiss this time and Bucky seemed only too happy to oblige. 

The tv announcers started happily cheering on screen. “ _Okay everyone. We’re counting down! 10! 9!”_

“Almost the new year,” Darcy murmured against Bucky’s lips.

He nodded. “I’m going to end this one the way I intend to spend the next one.”

“Oh?” Darcy raised an eyebrow. “And how’s that?”

Bucky cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheek with a thumb. Then he kissed her. He kissed her gently, slow and deep, like she was the most precious thing in the world. He kissed her like she was _important_.

Darcy could definitely spend a year like that. Darcy could spend a lot of years like that.

_“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”_

She smiled into the kiss a moment or two before pulling back ever so slightly.

“Happy New Year, Bucky,” she whispered.

“Happy New Year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! May this one be better than the last, with you and yours happy and healthy.
> 
> Song reference: [Nothing for Christmas by New Found Glory](https://youtu.be/BgjVOT6LpNU)
> 
> Come scream about superheroes with me:  
> [@seibelsays](https://seibelsays.tumblr.com) \- main  
> [@seibelsays-andwrites](https://seibelsays-andwrites.tumblr.com) \- writing updates
> 
> Until next time, may all your favorite bands stay together.  
> <3 seibelsays


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